The Widening Gyre
by greengrass1914
Summary: A bridge between Kotor 1 and 2 featuring an LSF Revan named Case, Carth, Mission, and Dustil with a few cameos by other Kotor 1 and 2 characters. The threat from beyond the Outer Rim calls to Case even as trouble may be brewing closer to home. COMPLETE.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

They were inside.

They were waiting for her.

Revan slid along the walls of the cave, the sides of the rock artificially smooth. Someone had been here before her, someone with the tools or power to cut through the stone as though it were water and leave these smooth tunnels behind. She gripped her lightsaber tightly in her left hand, its faint yellow glow not strong enough to shadow the walls. She lightened her step with the Force and made no noise as she approached the cavern. She knew that the answers she sought awaited her there, that they would have the final piece of the puzzle.

She could hear the discordant wails of them inside. She stepped forward, ready to reveal herself—and the sound ceased. She paused midstep. Why had they stopped?

Another screech, just a short burst, then another pause. She didn't know the language, couldn't puzzle through the words like most others in the Galaxy. She could manage Shyriiwook, but not this. It was entirely alien. Another screech.

She realized suddenly that they knew she was here, that they were waiting for her. Revan tried to push down the sudden fear that gripped her throat. _I am the destroyer of worlds, the slayer of Mandalore. I wield the Force like no other. _She wanted to believe that she was not afraid of what was inside the cave. She couldn't be afraid—they were the key to the next step. She could not unite the Galaxy against the true threat if she didn't know what that threat was.

Revan took a breath and stepped into the cavern. Crystals hung from the ceiling and chimed softly. The room was dominated by a circular pool in the center of the cavern. At first she thought it was reflecting light, but she realized that it couldn't be—there was no light in the cave to reflect. It was putting out its own light somehow, throwing a bluish glow around the cave. The edges of the room were still dark, and Revan knew that was where the creatures were. They were hiding from her, but she could hear their noises as they spoke to each other.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice bouncing discordantly off the crystals above her. Her reflected voice sounded familiar. _I sound like them_, she realized.

A wail went up from around the room, the echo growing as each creature picked up the call. She put her hands to her ears, saber angled uselessly away from her body. What were they doing? The sound grew louder, and Revan started to understand it. Not the meaning so much as the intonation. They were afraid, the ones in this room. They were cut off from the main group, and they knew she would kill them.

"If you give me the information I want, I won't kill you," she called, but she could hear the suppressed terror in her voice. She couldn't take them all. She didn't know enough about them.

The hiss grew louder, panicked, and Revan realized that there was something odd about it. It sounded like many voices, but—

She stepped forward, shielding her eyes from the glare of the pool. Inside the glow, she could see the crystals placed around the outside of the cavern. The sound reflected off the crystals, making it seem like—

"There's only one of you here, isn't there?"

The hiss stopped.

Revan smiled coldly. There was nothing to fear here. She raised her blade and advanced on the shadow before her. "It looks like you can help me after all," she said. She reached out—

Case jerked awake with a gasp. She looked at her hand in the dark, surprised not to see her saber in it. She panted to catch her breath. _Another dream_. She'd been having them since the Star Forge, but they had increased in frequency in the last week. She had more than one a night now.

"Case, what is it?" a sleepy voice asked beside her. Case rolled over and saw Carth blinking concernedly at her. He reached out a hand for her hair, and she pulled away. He frowned. "Hey, are you okay?"

She shook her head to clear it. She was fine, she reminded herself. She was safe on Coruscant, with Carth, and nothing was near to hurt her. She could still hear the hissing of her terrified victim. Case forced a smile.

"Just a dream. Nothing to worry about."

Carth levered himself up on an elbow and pushed his sleep-rumpled hair off his forehead. "It sounded like more than just a dream, gorgeous. You've been having a lot of dreams lately. Are you and Bastila—"

Case shook her head. "No, they're not like that. And my bond with Bastila has been broken ever since she. . .was with Malak. It's just a dream. Nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure? Maybe we should—"

Case cut him off with a kiss. "Maybe we should stop talking about this," she whispered. She kissed him again.

He grinned. "Well, since we're awake—" He pulled her down to him.

Afterward, with Carth sleeping again beside her, Case tried to find peace in the darkness, but it was not there to find. All of the other dreams had been vague, just shadows of Darkness, of searching for something in the past. But this dream was different, sharper, almost like a memory. She remembered with a start that she had called herself Revan in the dream. She had found something in that cave, something she used against the Republic in the Jedi Civil War. Case closed her eyes, heard the cry of the creature again, and knew with terrible dread what it was. She realized now that she had always known.

The creature was a Sith. A true Sith.

And it was still out there. Waiting for her.


	2. Chapter 1

**ONE**

"I will not allow it!" Carth's voice was loud in the Council chamber.

Master Vandar's face creased with sympathy but his voice did not waver. "Beyond your control it is, Captain. Strong in the Force your son is. Train him, we must."

Case winced at the small Jedi's words. She had told them, had tried to warn them, that they should approach Carth delicately about Dustil. Simply ordering him to release the boy to them was guaranteed to cause trouble. But, as usual, the Council thought it knew the right way to handle things.

They had been called to the Council chamber early that morning. The messenger had insisted that they come immediately, not even giving Carth a chance to change into his Fleet uniform. Case knew what the meeting was about, but feigned ignorance to Carth's irritated questions. This was not her decision, though she agreed with it. She was not going to be the one to give Carth the bad news.

She was unhappy, though, to see the entire Council in place when they arrived. She had thought they were going to handle this informally, with only one or two members present. It wasn't supposed to be a full hearing. Carth shot her a surprised glance and self-consciously ran a hand over his hair. She knew he didn't like being out of uniform in situations such as this. He whispered, "What do they want with you now?"

Case didn't get a chance to correct him before the Council spoke. "Captain Onasi, Jedi Case," an Ithorian she did not recognize greeted them. He sat at the center place and appeared to be in charge of the meeting. "I am Master Tournan."

Case blanched. Tournan was the Council chairman. He usually didn't even attend meetings, and certainly should not have been here for such a relatively small matter. How could Dustil's training be so important?

"Jedi Case, please take your position with the witnesses. Captain Onasi, to the center, please."

Case could feel Carth's discomfort and confusion as she made her way across the room to the witness box. She knew he hadn't expected to be addressed by the Council at all. There were eight other Jedi already in the box, and the closest to her, a Duros, nodded in greeting and slid over on the bench. Every Council meeting was witnessed by nine Jedi. The idea was to be sure that the Council's actions were always out in the open, but Case knew having Jedi watch other Jedi did little to reassure the non-Jedi public that they were legitimate.

Carth stood in the center of the room and saluted sharply. Even without the uniform, he was every inch the military officer. The fifteen members of the Council sat on a raised platform in a semicircle around him. The configuration was meant to intimidate, Case was sure, but Carth showed no outward sign of hesitation. "Captain Carth Onasi of the Republic Fleet at your service, Masters. How may I assist you?"

Tournan folded his hands on the table in front of him. He looked very grave. "Captain, you know that your son, Dustil Onasi, submitted himself for Evaluation by this Council two weeks ago."

"I do." Carth had not been pleased at Dustil's decision, but Jolee had reassured him that Dustil was probably too old for training. Case hadn't been so sure.

"It is the decision of the Council that he will be taken for training. As he is still a minor, we require that you sign guardianship of him over to the Council."

Even as he angrily protested, Case admired that Carth refused to bow to the Council's efforts at intimidation. After Vandar spoke, Carth became perfectly still. His voice, angry before, was now stripped of emotion. Case cringed internally to hear it. "I know the law, Masters," he said precisely. "The Council has the authority to take whomever it deems appropriate for training. As your authority in this matter exceeds mine, I assume that there is no further purpose in continuing this meeting."

The foolish Council actually looked relieved to hear his words. Case knew better—Carth knew when he was outgunned, but the Council had lost its chance to have the man as its ally.

Tournan raised his hand in dismissal. _Condescending bastard_, she thought. He couldn't even thank Carth for giving the Council custody of his only child.

Carth saluted again, turned on his heel, and walked out of the chamber. Case had to wait for Tournan to dismiss the witness box before she could leave. By that time, Carth was far ahead of her, on his way to the speeder bay.

"Carth!" she called after him.

He kept walking as though he hadn't heard her. His anger seethed through the Force. She could Force Boost herself to him and catch up, but she thought it would be better to leave him alone to cool off. Besides, what would she say? The idiotic Council had managed to alienate yet another non-Jedi. If it kept this up, it would be lucky to have two Duros and a Hutt as its only allies in the whole galaxy.

* * *

He was flying the speeder far too fast, he knew, but he pushed the throttle down harder. The high towers of Coruscant flew by, too fast even to note the addresses. Carth concentrated on the traffic ahead of him, dodging over and under slower speeders as he put distance between him and the Enclave. The need to navigate slowly relaxed him, and he eased up on the controls. A ticket wouldn't improve his foul mood.

Damn the Jedi and their manipulation. He hadn't thought Case would fall into their ways so quickly, that she would think Dustil, his only child, should _join them_. Three months ago, while they were still looking for the Star Forge, she would never have supported the Jedi Council instead of him. But they weren't looking for the Star Forge anymore, and things were obviously different now.

After they destroyed the Star Forge, the Republic swept all of them up in a month-long "victory tour" interspersed with debriefings and interrogations. At some point, enough officials were convinced that they really had destroyed the Forge and Case really was no longer Revan that they were allowed to return to their regular lives. Not that any of them really knew what those were anymore. Canderous took off out immediately for the Outer Rim—his Clan had been leaderless for too long, he said. Zalbaar returned to Kashyyyk after renewing his Life Debt to Case. She had only to call, he promised, and he would come immediately, wherever she needed him. Bastila, Jolee, and Juhani planned to return to Coruscant to meet with the Jedi Council about the post-Malak universe and Bastila's brief fall to the Dark.

That left the rest of them without anyplace in particular to go. Carth was on three months furlough from the Fleet, and the Admiralty was apparently still undecided about where he would be reassigned. He was still undecided about the Admiralty, so it was just as well he had some time to think. Mission, dissuaded from joining Zalbaar on Kashyyyk—things were still too unstable, Zalbaar insisted—latched onto Carth and declared that she would go wherever he went. That would become tricky if he rejoined the Fleet, but it was fine for the time being. Somehow he'd managed to become father to another teenager, though she was a good kid, and he had to admit that he liked having her around.

He, Case, and Mission, then, had to decide what to do. They had decided to go to Telos when a message came from Dustil that he was en route to Coruscant. That made it easy to take the Jedi back, and they decided that they might as well stay at the Enclave for a short while until they sorted their lives back out. Carth thought "a short while" would mean a week or two, but the Council took an interest in their affairs, and insisted on conducting Case's Knight trials. Two weeks stretched into four. Just as they thought they might be done with the Council, Dustil arrived, and the Jedi fell all over themselves to get him Evaluated. Strong in the Force, they said. Carth shook his head. Dustil must have gotten it from his mother, because the plasteel speeder frame around him had more Force sensitivity than he did.

_Which is why you keep getting used by them, Onasi_. He concentrated on flying and tried not to get himself worked up again. If Dustil wanted to join the Order, that was his decision. The boy wouldn't be in training forever, after all. He would see his son again. And in the meantime, the Enclave on Coruscant was probably the safest place to be—no Sith or any other enemy would be fool enough to attack the Capital World. Once Dustil joined, he and Case could leave for a while, learn what it was like to love each other when their lives weren't constantly at risk. He hoped.

His communicator light blinked. It was probably Case, and she was probably worried. He had been gone for some time. He flipped the Accept.

"Captain Onasi? This is Lieutenant Vrodmine for Admiral Dodonna."

This was unexpected. "Onasi here, Lieutenant. What do you need?"

"Captain, Admiral Dodonna asks that you report to the Fleet headquarters as soon as possible. A situation has arisen and she requires your counsel."

Carth checked his location. "I can be there in half an hour, Lieutenant, but I'm in civvies. It'll take me an hour to get back to the Enclave and report in uniform."

There was a brief conversation off the communicator. "The Admiral asks that you come as you are, Captain, immediately."

"Tell the Admiral I'm on my way, then. Onasi out."

* * *

It had been a stupid thing to do, she knew. Bad enough to surprise any parent with news of their child, but she knew Carth's prejudices better than anyone, and she never should have let the Council be the one to tell him about his son. That Dustil was not just Force-sensitive, but had a depth of sensitivity greater even than hers. That they wanted him to stay on Coruscant at the temporary Academy. She thought he'd take it better if it wasn't from her—

_You're a fool, Case_. She'd have to make it up to him when he cooled down and came back. She could feel him out there in the Force, a confused tangle of anger and frustration colored by a hint of exhilaration, which meant that he was probably flying his speeder somewhere at a reckless velocity. Flying always calmed him down, and she could apologize then. They were arguing too much, too often. It wasn't like it had been, when they were working together to find the Star Forge. Maybe when they got away from Coruscant, they could spend some time alone together, get back to normal. Maybe even go on a nice trip to a planet that wasn't crawling with Sith. _Which Sith?_ her mind insisted. She shook her head roughly, trying to shake away those thoughts. They were just dreams. She could ignore dreams forever. She didn't have to go back out there. Couldn't the Universe take care of itself for once? _The Force chooses its own saviors_, she could almost hear Master Zhar say.

Case sighed and smoothed out her tunic. She refused to wear those ridiculous Jedi robes unless absolutely necessary for battle. She had been in too many tight spots to wear something with no protection against blasters and vibroblades. Here in the Enclave, she enjoyed the looks on the other Jedis' faces when they saw her strolling about in civvies. They couldn't understand why she didn't want to "do things properly." She couldn't understand why they all had to be such thickheaded zealots. It was no wonder they weren't trusted by the average person.

Case left the small temporary apartment she and Carth were sharing at the and headed toward the common area. She had promised to tell Dustil how things had gone with his father. And they could have gone worse. Carth would come around, given enough time.

"Hey, Case! Wait up!"

It was Mission, jogging in from the practice ground. She was carrying a baird stick and was covered in dust.

"Mission, what in the world have you been up to? You look like a mertahog after a fight!"

She grinned, headtails swinging lightly around her face. "I just scored the winning goal against the fourth-year Padawan team in bairdball! Those kids never had a chance." She fell into step beside Case.

"I see," Case said, "you're taking advantage of a bunch of poor Jedi who don't have the advantage of having fought dark Jedi and street thugs since they were ten. I hope you weren't betting on the game. . ."

"Heck yeah, we were!" Mission exclaimed. "You think I'm gonna play for nothing? I got enough Enclave credits from that team to buy a lightsaber if I wanted to!" She shook a datapad to emphasize her winnings. "So, where're we going? To eat, I hope."

Case nodded. "I told Dustil I'd meet him for lunch. You're welcome to join us." Even a year out from the streets of Taris, Mission never missed a meal.

"Sure," she agreed. "Where's Carth? I tried to get him to play with us, but one of the fourth years said it wouldn't be fair to have a war hero on our team, and Carth said he had something else to do, anyway. I told that stupid fourth year that being a war hero didn't have anything to do with playing baird, and Carth was old, anyway, but he--" Mission stopped her rattling. "Hey, is something wrong? Carth didn't get eaten by a kath hound, did he?"

Case frowned. "No, but he may have crashed his speeder into a building." She saw the stricken look on the Twi'lek's face. "No, Mission, I'm kidding. He didn't crash his speeder, I'd be able to tell. I'm just saying that he was—upset—when he left the Enclave this morning."

The relief on the girl's face was almost comical. She had become very attached to the Republic pilot, even more so once Zalbaar went back to Kashyyyk. "Oh, well, that's good, I guess. Why was he upset? Was it about Dustil? I mean, I know he was real surprised when Dustil showed up here and the Council tested him, but that was, like, two weeks ago."

They approached the entrance of the common area. Like everything else in the Enclave, it was made of a pinkish stone and gleamed faintly in the midday sun. The interior was cool and dimly lit. The large room was full of tables, groups of Jedi and non-Jedi sitting together, playing cards, eating lunch, or just talking. Case sought out Dustil, sitting by himself near a window. He waved them over, and Case headed in that direction.

She replied to Mission. "The Council insisted that Dustil stay for training at the Enclave. When he heard that, he—"

"Flipped out? Well, no duh, Case! That was really rude of them!" Mission looked a little angry herself. "The Council acts like it owns everyone, like us non-Jedi are a bunch of bantha that they can order around! Why didn't you stop them, Case? That sounds like something Bastila would do!"

Case groaned and shushed her as they approached Dustil's table. She didn't want to have this conversation with Carth's son, too. "I know, Mission, and I'll apologize as soon as he comes back. It was a miscalculation, really."

Mission grumbled a little but brightened at the sight of tekka chips on the table. She slid down the bench across from Dustil. "Hey, can I have some of these?" she asked. Tekka chips were her favorite snack.

Dustil smiled. "I got them for you. I thought you might be here."

Mission flushed a little purple and Case laughed. Mission wasn't used to interacting with kids her own age. Dustil had his father's charm, and his flirtatious attention was obviously unsettling her. "I'll have some too, Dustil, if you don't mind," she said, sparing Mission from having to reply. "So, when do you enter the Academy?"

Dustil shrugged. "As soon as possible. I'm pretty sure they wanted to drag me in the back and shave my head right after the results of my Evaluation, but I convinced them that I needed a day to wrap up some things. You know, deal with Father after the Council tells him." He grinned. "I guess I won't turn into a Dark Lord in just one day."

Case frowned at him. "It's nothing to joke about, Dustil. The Dark Side is frighteningly easy to fall into."

"You think I don't know that?" he asked tensely, a hint of anger in his eyes. "Is it too much to ask that one of you people have a sense of humor?"

Case could feel the Force coming off of him like heat from a flame. The boy was shockingly quick to anger, even quicker than his father, and with much more dangerous consequences. The Council had been right to take him for training in spite of his age—he could easily become a weapon for the Dark side. She smiled with effort and reached for a tekka. She broke the green chip in half and nibbled. "It's not that we don't have a sense of humor, Dustil; we just lose sight of it because our heads are stuck too far up our—"

"Haranguing the Jedi again, I see, Case," came a voice behind them. Case turned and shook her head at the sight.

"Master Jolee, those robes look ridiculous on you," she declared. They were instructor robes, and the voluminous folds swallowed the man.

Jolee shook his finger at her. "You watch it, young lady. If the Jedi wanted to take an old man like me back, I was going to do it in style." He nodded at her companions. "Initiate Onasi, Mission."

Dustil flushed. "Not until tomorrow, Jo—er, Master Jolee."

"Soon enough, I suppose. Case, may I have a word with you, please?"

Case sighed inwardly. The usual joking smile on the man's face belied the seriousness in his eyes. Something important was going on, and that was the last thing she wanted. She took her leave of the teenagers and headed out the door with Jolee.

"Universe need saving again, old man?" she asked wearily.

"Hmm. Perhaps. I think I'll let Master Vrook give you the details about that." He stopped suddenly and gripped her arm. "Did you feel that?"

She thought about it. "No, what was it?"

"Someone just used a Dark side power, I think," he said. "Just briefly."

Case's eyes widened. "Are you sure? Who would do such a thing in the Enclave?"

Jolee shook his head slowly. "Perhaps it was an accident. Just a student trying something she should not. If you did not feel it, then it's also possible that I misinterpreted what I felt." He looked at her narrowly as they continued walking. "Speaking of misinterpretation, I heard the Council practically ordered Onasi at blasterpoint to release his boy to them. I'm surprised you did not stand with him."

Case wanted to scream. Must everyone challenge her decisions? She threw her hands in the air. "I'm sorry, Jolee. I'll never support the Council again, ever, Sith threat be damned! You know as well as I do that the boy needs to be trained, and it's not my fault his father holds every Jedi responsible for the Mandalorian War!"

Jolee shook his head. "Your theatrics are hardly necessary, Case." He looked at her closely. "Even Bastila has learned not to—"

"Treat people like objects, I know," she finished. "Poor girl, does she know that she's become the poster child for bad Jedi behavior?"

They were approaching the Council chambers. "I think Bastila would gladly punish herself that way, as well, if she could," he said sadly. Since they left the Star Forge, Bastila had been next to useless. She had overspent her Battle Meditation in an attempt to compensate for helping the Sith, and she had refused to heal herself or even meditate with the other Jedi. She had secluded herself upon her return to Coruscant and would see none of them.

The guards at the door bowed slightly as they entered. Masters Kavar, Vrook, and Vandar were seated around the meditation chamber, several empty chairs for other Masters between each. Tournan's seat was empty.

Master Vrook looked up from a datapad. "Ah, Master Jolee, Jedi Case. We have been waiting for you." He looked grim.

Case tried not to show her nervousness. "What is it?"

There was a heavy silence around the room. Jolee rolled his eyes and made his way to a chair near the door. "This old man's gonna sit down if you're not gonna get on with it," he grumbled under his breath. Case felt suddenly alone and exposed in front of the Council.

Vrook steepled his fingers and sighed. "There was a disturbance in the Force last night," he said finally.

"Really?" she asked brightly, trying to mask the sudden fear that went through her. "I didn't notice anything, except for an odd dream that I—"

"It came from you, Jedi Case."

Case was silent. She knew what was coming. "Yes, Masters, I remembered my. . . former self."

Master Kavar spoke up from the far wall, his calm expression at odds with his tight voice. "Did you see it? Do you know what it is?"

Case looked around the room for some hint as to Kavar's concern. As usual, the Jedi were inscrutable. She felt a thread of suspicion in her mind. They were all afraid of something, that much was clear from the feel of the Force in the room. But they thought she knew something that they didn't. What could she know?

Vrook broke her silence. "It's something you did, isn't it?" he asked her sharply. "You did something when you were the Dark Lord that is coming back to us now. I knew we should have—"

"Vrook." Kavar said quietly, cutting off the man's angry words. Vrook immediately dropped his eyes, hands clenching on the table before him. Kavar continued, "Jedi Case, we all felt a disturbance last night, and when we meditated on it this afternoon, we realized that the disturbance was an echo from a greater disturbance in the future."

"The future?" she asked. "I thought the future was unknowable."

Master Vandar nodded gravely. "Hard to see, the future is. A terrible tragedy, from the echo comes."

Case felt her fear from last night like a weight in her gut. Had she done something when she was Revan that had awoken the true Sith? Or were they awake before she reached them? Pieces of thought skittered through the edges of her mind, too fast to piece together. She had realized something after she defeated the Mandalorians, something that had caused her to seek out the Sith. Some reason she had gone to—

"Korriban," she blurted out.

Kavar raised his eyebrows. "What about Korriban, Jedi Case?" he asked quietly. "What calls you there?"

There was a feeling around the room like a collectively held breath. Case hadn't realized until she said it that the cave from her dream was on Korriban. It had to be. She knew with a certainty she hadn't felt since the Star Forge that she had to go there. She had to find out what she had discovered so many years ago, what had started her on the path that ended with her now in front of the Council, again arguing for action that it was too afraid to pursue.

She saw herself suddenly before her, like a Force ghost. She was younger. A smile danced around her eyes even as the set of her lips was firm. _"Masters, we must not ignore the Mandalorians. There is something odd about the attack. Their history does not predict this kind of behavior. My studies have shown—"_

_"We have decided not to interfere, Jedi Revan. You will cease your studies," a younger Tournan ordered._

_"But Masters, this is greater than the Mandalorians, I am sure of it!"_

_"We have already decided, Jedi. Please leave us now."_

Case blinked, and her younger self was gone. The Council was still staring at her expectantly. The memories suddenly unlocked, Case realized what her younger self—what Revan—had instinctively feared. The Mandalorians hadn't attacked on their own. Mandalore had told her as much before she killed him. They were induced to attack by a greater Darkness pushing inward from the Unknown Regions. Her memories became fuzzy again, covered in the mist that the Council had violated her with. What had she found on Malachor V that had sent her to Korriban? More importantly, what had she found on Korriban? Because that, she realized now, was what had set her on her path as Darth Revan, had caused her to break entirely from the Light and—and what? She just couldn't remember. Case knew with a sinking heart that she had to go back to Korriban. If she was to retrace her path, she had to start there.

She opened her mouth to tell the Council when she saw a glimpse of her younger self in the corner of her eye, walking away from the Council with stiff shoulders and a wounded expression. She had tried to tell them then, too, and they had stopped her. What if they stopped her again? Because that was what they would do, she realized as she looked around the room. The Council was so afraid of the unknown, of the encroaching Darkness, that it would stop her rather than face the fear. The Council would doom the Universe. _They can't do anything, anyway. It has to be you._ She pushed away her nagging thought, but knew in her heart that it was true. She had to find this threat and defeat it herself.

She realized the Council was still staring expectantly at her, her long silence becoming awkward. "I think the answer may lie on Korriban, Masters. I remembered last night that the head of Archaeology kept some old scrolls in the Archives near the tombs, and I believe I may be able to take them from the Archives and bring them to the Council for study." She shielded her thoughts tightly from the Masters. They couldn't know what really might lie on Korriban. She would just be a good little Jedi, completely reformed. She would bring the Council information and let it decide what to do. "I would go to Korriban immediately, if the Council allows it."

"Case, no!" Jolee exclaimed. He got to his feet. "It is too dangerous for you there. Last time, you almost—"

"Enough, Master Jolee," Vrook commanded. Jolee reluctantly subsided, still glaring at her. "Jedi Case, the Force has guided you to Korriban, for we have yet another task for you there, at the Academy."

"The Academy, Master Vrook?" she asked. Last she had heard, the Sith Academy was crumbling from the inside. She doubted there was anything to find there.

"Doubt does not become a Jedi," Vrook scolded her. "We have another task for you. We have lost many of our most promising students in the past several months. They simply leave the Jedi Academy and never return. Some of our Knights, too, are leaving the Order. I believe the new headmaster at the Sith Academy may be behind it. We ask that you look into it while you are inside the Academy."

Case looked around the room incredulously. "Inside the Academy? How am I going to get inside the Academy?" She laughed. "Unless the Council has a secret pass."

There was an uncomfortable silence and Case groaned. _Don't tell me._

"Actually, Jedi—"


	3. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Mission looked after Case's departing figure. Something weird was going on—Jolee was not his usual cranky self. She pushed down her fear, getting stronger every day they spent on Coruscant, that things were falling apart. Zalbaar had already left, and she worried that she was going to lose Carth and Case, too. The Jedi and Fleet weren't just going to let some kid hang around while they went off on assignments—they weren't her parents, after all. She could take care of herself, of course, but where would she go?

"You look like your pet gizka died, Mission," Dustil broke into her thoughts.

She flushed again. Dustil was a nice guy, but he acted like they were friends, and they'd really just met. He'd been so mean to Carth on Korriban, and she just wasn't sure that she was ready to pretend like nothing had happened. "No, I just wonder what's going on. Can't you tell that something is?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right. The Force feels different today than it did yesterday—people are worried about something." He was breaking tekka chips into tiny pieces and absently pushing them into piles.

"You're ruining the chips, Dustil," she pointed out with a smile.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Look, Mission," he changed subjects abruptly, "what's the deal with you and my father?"

Mission was startled. "What do you mean? I'm not—he's—it's Case that—"

"No, don't be stupid. Not like _that_. I mean, why are you hanging around him all the time, acting like he's responsible for you? You're not his kid."

Mission didn't know what to say. Dustil's expression hadn't changed at all—he didn't look angry, but that just made his words more confusing and. . .scarier, sort of. She tried to choose her words carefully "I don't know—he's just a nice guy, that's all, and he trusted me on Taris like a grownup, you know? Not like a kid, even though he sometimes treats me like one. You know how he is. And, plus," she continued, "he knows what it's like when your homeworld isn't there anymore. Like you do, too." She ducked her head a little, tried to get him back to his usual easygoing self.

Dustil leaned across the table, eyes narrowed. "He's not your father, Mission, he's mine." He held up a hand and made a fist, and Mission suddenly couldn't breathe. She couldn't even gasp. She tried to stand—her vision slid to red—

—and everything was suddenly normal again. Dustil was leaning back on the bench, smiling. "—I think that I have a chance to get on the baird team here. I used to play a lot on Telos, and then again on Korriban. What do you think?" He looked at her expectantly, no trace of hatred on his face.

Mission gaped at him, completely confused. Had any of that just happened? Did she imagine it? Or had he really used some kind of Dark Force power on her? But here he was, chatting about baird ball. So maybe she'd just lost it for a second. "I, um, yeah. I think you'll be great on the team. Look, I have to go. But thanks for the chips." She stumbled away from the table and ran out of the room.

She was panting and shaking by the time she got back to her apartment. She didn't know what was going on, but it was bad. Very bad.

* * *

The door to their apartment was slightly ajar, which most likely meant that Carth had returned. Case bit her lower lip and tried to squash the nervousness that filled her stomach. She had to leave, had to find out what the threat was beyond the Outer Rim and stop it if she could.

And she had to do it alone. The Council had commanded her to take Dustil with her to the Sith Academy. He could get them both inside. She would do what the Council required of her, but Case knew that she would have to leave Dustil there and go on by herself. Once she rediscovered whatever it was on Korriban that she had found before, she would leave to find the threat and meet it. Carth would insist on coming with her if she told him, and she knew that she could never allow him to do that. The thought turned her courage to water, but she knew what had to be done, and she couldn't risk Carth's life, or his new relationship with Dustil. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door. _You faced down Darth Malak, idiot! You can handle one Republic pilot_.

Carth was standing at the window with his back to the door, hands crossed at the small of his back. She took a moment to admire the view, the sturdy soldier's stance, the lean muscles of his forearms. She would miss him so much. "I've decided to let all of the first-year Padawans walk by me in a line and bash me in the head with their practice vibroblades," she announced with false cheer. "I think that might knock some sense into it."

He turned, smiled. She got a hint of discomfort from him, but quickly shut off her connection to his emotional state—she couldn't let herself be persuaded by his feelings. He crossed the room and kissed the top of her head. "Can I be at the end of the line?" he asked.

She ducked away and swatted him in the rear. "Hey! You're supposed to be horrified at my penchant for self-flagellation, not enabling it." She continued, "Seriously, Carth, I'm sorry. I should never have let you go into the Council room unprepared." It seemed like years ago that they had been in front of the Council, but it had only been that morning. So much had changed in just a few hours.

"But you agree with the Council."

"Dustil is unbelievably strong in the Force, Carth. He's a danger to himself and to us if he stays half-trained. Believe me when I say that I would never do anything to hurt him, or you."

Carth looked a little sad when he smiled. "I know. It's just hard, knowing that I'm going to lose him again, at least for a while. But at least he'll be safe on Coruscant, and that's something."

She edged onto the bed. He'd forgiven her, as she knew he would. But she knew his forgiveness was short-lived and she desperately wanted one last memory of him before she destroyed their love. She forced a wide grin and leaned back on her elbows. "Wanna make up?"

Carth waggled his eyebrows at her leeringly. "Maybe you need some punishing first."

"Oh, no! What ever will I do? Who will save me now?" She wailed as she pulled him onto her.

An hour later, she rolled away from Carth's weight on her chest and fumbled for her clothes. He cracked open one eye, growling. "You always do that right when I start to fall asleep."

She pulled her shirt over her head. She could put it off telling him until that night, but it wouldn't be any easier then. She ought to just get it over with.

"Carth, I—" she started.

"Case, I need to ask—" he said at the same time.

She laughed. "Okay, you go first."

He got his own clothes rearranged and stood up, suddenly agitated. He ran a hand under his hair. "Case, the Fleet is sending me on assignment to Telos. I don't know how long it will be, but Admiral Dodonna thought it wouldn't be more than three months."

Case struggled with her surprise. But she was supposed to be breaking the bad news to him! "I don't know what to say, Carth," she started.

He sat back on the bed and took her hands in his. His eyes pleaded with her for understanding. "I'm sorry, Case, I tried to get out of it, but when the Admiral told me it was Telos. . .there's something going on there, people going missing, and the Sith are probably behind it. It's in one of the repaired sectors on the surface, near Marne, where I lived before—before everything. I have to do what I can to find out what's going wrong. Will you come with me?"

"I, er, well, actually—"

"I'm supposed to go back and help run the reconstruction as a liaison from the Fleet. When I find out what's going on, I can report back to the Admiral. But it would fit, if you come with me. As—as my wife."

Her breath caught. _No, not this. Not now. _"Are you asking—"

He got down on a knee next to the bed, hands still intertwined with hers. "Will you marry me, Case? I know we have things to work out, but we love each other, and I know we can do this together. I want to spend my life with you, whatever we decide to do."

Tears filled her eyes. There was no justice in the Universe. "I—I love you, Carth, you know that."

The hopeful smile on his face faded. "But."

She couldn't bear to look him in the eye. "I just got back from another meeting with the Council. They've ordered me to Korriban. Intelligence says there's a new threat, not a Sith Lord yet, but if we don't stop it—they don't know what it is, but they think it may come from Korriban, from the new headmaster at the Academy. We're losing young Jedi, and there are few enough as it is. I have to go, and we can't risk non-Jedi going with me."

"But what does that have to do with—"

"They've ordered me to take Dustil," she said.

Carth abruptly let go of her hands, rocked back on his heels. "Why?" he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

She shrugged. "They need us to get back into the Academy. Dustil didn't tell anyone that he was leaving; he just left. He should be able to get back inside, and I—well, I'm the Dark Lord Revan, remember?"

"You're not." He was angry now.

"I am, Carth. Yes, I rejected her, but I still have part of her inside me. The Sith will believe that I've turned against the Light, because they can't conceive why I wouldn't. If I can use that to help the Republic, how can I refuse?"

He stood and paced away from her. "We should be invading the Academy, not sending people inside it! Why allow a known enemy encampment to stand? If you insist on throwing your life away, I can't stop you, but I can stop you from taking my son with you!"

She realized that this was the opportunity that she had been waiting for. She had to do it now, and do it so well that he would never want to see her again. "You can't, Carth. He's already agreed to go. He is an adult, and a Jedi." She closed her eyes briefly to gather her courage, then filled her voice with Persuasion and reached for him with the Force. "You know it's for the best."

His eyes glazed over for a moment. "Maybe you're right, maybe it's for the—" he shook his head suddenly. "What the hell are you doing to me?"

She flushed with shame and pretended embarrassment. Nothing would push him away like the fear of betrayal. She fumbled, "I—I'm sorry, I just thought—"

"You thought you could just _control_ me?" The anger and fear he projected nearly knocked her over. He pointed at her, hand shaking with the intensity of his outrage. "You—you keep away from me." He turned on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

Case maintained the pretense of calm just long enough for him to get out of the main hallway before she collapsed back to the bed. _What kind of a monster am I?_ She had lost him forever now, she knew. And she had done it on purpose. She didn't try to stop the sobs that seemed to come straight from her soul.

* * *

Dustil watched Mission's departing figure with a bit of a smile. He'd scared her, probably, but she would never reveal him to the Council. She was one of those types that would blame herself, try to figure out why she made him do it, rather than start with the assumption that she did nothing. He pushed away the thought that she didn't deserve his abuse. She shouldn't act so. . .comfortable with everyone, treating him like _he_ was the outsider to her little messed up family. It _was_ her fault.

Three days of Jedi evaluation, and those sticks never figured out that he was keeping a little stash of his old Dark powers in reserve. Not for general use, of course—he wasn't about to become a Dark Jedi—but just to give him a little edge when he needed it. Something more powerful than that "Force Aura" nonsense they taught Padawans. Hopefully, having some unexpected skills would let him catch up to his own age group quicker. He wasn't looking forward to being shown up by the ten-year-olds in his Initiate classes.

His special assignment would help, too. It was a nice boost to his ego to be chosen to accompany Revan to Korriban and find out what they were digging up in the Academy. You didn't find many Initiates asked to do important missions like that. His prestige would certainly increase. And maybe he could learn a thing or two from Revan, making him that much more powerful when he returned.

Dustil brushed the last of the tekka crumbs into this hand and dumped them into the closest trash can. He made his way back out into the bright sunshine of Coruscant and made for the living quarters. He needed to tell his father about his trip. He had only a vague idea where his father's apartment was—there might be more light and privacy in the Enclave, but it was no less confusing that the arrangement on Korriban. At least there, he'd worked his way into a nice room at the end of the hall. Here, he was stuck with quarters smaller than those on the ship that had brought him to Coruscant, and tomorrow, he'd lose even that luxury. Initiates bunked ten to a room, with only a chest for their personal items.

He approached the door to his father's apartment and could see that it was ajar. He listened outside for a moment—a habit he had found very useful on Korriban—and heard the unexpected sound of laughter from the room. Revan must be in there. They were rooming together, he knew, but he didn't often see the two of them alone together. Usually one of them was with Mission or part of a group. He listened for a moment more and realized suddenly what they were doing in there. Not telling jokes, that was for sure. His lip curled and he struggled to push down the sudden flare of anger that shot up inside him. His hand was in the air and pointed toward the room before he realized it. He jerked it down quickly and practically ran from the hallway. Jedi whore! She wasn't worth his Dark powers.

He made his way blindly from hallway to hallway and found himself outside again in a courtyard. It took him a second to realize where he was—it was the "welcome" area between the spaceport and the Enclave. There was a greeting area to his left, manned by a bored-looking Padawan girl. She was calmly trying to explain to an irritated visitor that he was not authorized to enter the Enclave.

Dustil left them to their arguing and found a bench under a tree near the wall. There was a small arrangement of trees and a pond next to the bench. There was probably some cosmic significance to the order of the plants and the fish in the pond, but Dustil could care less what that was. He was just glad to be away from the living quarters.

_Well, did you think they were rooming together to save space?_ he taunted himself. _Stop acting like a five-year-old_. But Revan, of all people? Who the hell did that woman think she was, anyway, showing up and insinuating her way into his father's life? She might make his father forget his family, but she couldn't make Dustil do it. He pulled a small stone from his pocket, almost perfectly round, and flecked green with crystallized minerals. He'd found it on Telos the day before the attack, and somehow he'd managed to keep it with him for the last four years. It was worn smooth from turning it over and over in his hand.

That had been a terrible day. The day Telos was bombed.

He had been camping with the Valenta boys at a lake near the colony. The twins had managed to crib some Tarisian ale from their parents' stash, and they'd passed the bottle around most of the night. Dustil mostly mouthed the bottle and avoided drinking much because his mother had promised to keep him off the baird team if she ever caught him drinking. He didn't want to come home smelling like alcohol. The twins were pretty tanked, though, and they all made fun of their teachers and rated the local girls in comparison with the holovid actresses. It was a good time. He could still remember the way the sand felt under his sleeping bag and the smell of salt in the air.

They woke up late the next morning to the sound of the emergency klaxon.

"Tornados?" Jirin asked, nervous. The boy's freckles stood out against his pale skin.

"Nah," Jan replied. "It's totally clear out. Maybe it's just a drill." The colonies were still relatively isolated from each other, and they ran readiness drills every few weeks, for invasion, for dangerous weather, for earthquake.

Dustil started gathering up his sleeping bag. "Well, if it's a drill, guys, we'd better get to our DMLs or we're going to catch it from the Director. I don't want to pick up trash in the square next week." Each colony sector had a designated meeting location for minors and nonessential adults.

"Fine, let's go. Stupid drills." They all hustled back on their scooters and made it back just as the gates were closing. The guard looked terrified.

"What's goin' on, Tally?" Dustil asked. He didn't like the look on the sentry's face.

"Get to your DMLs!" he shouted. "Hurry! It's the Sith! They're here!"

Dustil's stomach dropped. The Sith? On Telos? The Sith had been the bad guys in all their history lessons and make believe stories their whole lives, but they were always "out there" somewhere, not exactly real. Different than Mandalorians, scarier, because they had Jedi powers. Dustil could never get his father to tell him stories about his battles with the Sith, or any battles, for that matter, but some of the retired soldiers had told them all a few. They wore black armor and would kill you as soon as look at you. They could control your mind with a gesture and make you kill your friends. Even the Jedi could be killed by them.

Jirin started whimpering beside him, and Jan was frozen to his spot. Dustil grabbed Jirin by the arm and dragged him roughly toward the town center. "Come on, idiot, we can't just stand here!" Jan found his feet and ran ahead of them.

The town center was strangely silent. Usually, even in real emergencies, people were chattering or moving around. The little kids were always shrieking in excitement. This time, though, people were standing around in small groups, whispering or just staring at the exterior walls. No one seemed to know what to do.

The twins ran toward their mom, who started crying with relief and hugged them both. "Boys! I thought you'd be trapped outside!" she cried. She smiled at Dustil, who was standing by awkwardly. His mother was one of the emergency management leaders, so she was never at a DML. He could see her a few blocks away, blaster rifle in hand, guarding the armory. She was craning her neck to see into the crowd, so Dustil waved to let her know he'd returned. She waved back, and then returned her attention to the person speaking to her.

Jirin's mom said to the woman next to her, "I heard Carth Onasi's task force is on its way back, and the Fleet is sending a Capital ship to repel the invasion."

The other woman looked relieved. "That's good news. Captain Onasi's team should be able to hold them off until the Capital ship arrives. He won't let us down."

Dustil's chest filled with pride despite the nearly palpable fear in the air around him. His father would keep them safe. Maybe he'd even get to stay a while and help with any repairs. He'd been gone a lot, lately, and Dustil sometimes heard his mother crying in their bedroom at night. He didn't like it when she cried.

Five hours later, nothing had happened and everyone was starting to get bored. Dustil had beaten Carrine Nela at Pazaak four hands in a row, and she wouldn't play with him anymore. The twins were doing something complicated with dice, and the tension in the air had lowered greatly. People started grumbling that the warning was wrong, that they had work to do. Even the guards were looking at their chronos.

That was when it happened, of course. It was a different sound than Dustil expected, not the high-pitched whizzing that he saw on the newsvids, but a whishy pop, like air coming out of a ball all at once. It was only when he saw the smoke that he realized what was happening.

"They're attacking from the air! Everyone get under cover!" someone shouted.

Despite all of their drills, everyone panicked and ran in a different direction. Dustil dashed for the infirmary—it was close by, and its walls were reinforced titansteel in case of bad weather. It was the strongest building in the colony. He looked back for the twins and couldn't find them, but he saw Carrine standing stupidly in the center of the now deserted square. She looked lost. "Carrine!" he shouted. "Over here!"

She looked in his direction with the terrified, empty stare of a halick trapped by a kath hound. She took two steps in his direction when there was another _pop_ and she disappeared into dust. There was just a crater where she had been.

Dustil stared at the now-empty space for a moment, until another explosion reminded him to duck. He crouched low against the wall, shaking in fear. He tried to see across to the armory, but there was so much smoke and dust that he couldn't see a meter in front of him. His mother was smart, she'd be fine, he told himself over and over. She'd be fine.

An hour later, he was still huddled in the door frame of the infirmary, and the smoke had started to settle. At one point during the attack, the back wall of the building had collapsed with a screeching crash. Dustil had thought he was dead for sure, then. But the roof tilted back and stopped two feet above his head. It was dark and dusty, but it was safe. When it had been silent for almost half an hour, Dustil crawled out from the rubble on his belly and looked around. The town center was black with char, and most of the buildings nearby had collapsed. He could hear wailing and screams all around him, but the silence underneath it was worse. Something was _gone_ in the town, and he belatedly realized that it was the lives of most of the people. He had never been conscious of feeling them before, but now that it was gone, the loss was like a heavy silence pressing on his ears.

He decided to get across the square toward the armory. He had only gone twenty meters when he heard a low moaning near him. He turned and saw one of the guards under the rubble, blood coming from his nose and mouth. "Help. . .help me," he whispered.

Dustil went to him, reached out a trembling hand, but the man stopped breathing before he could touch him. Dustil felt his life force go. The smell of burning hair and metal was everywhere, and he gagged. Where was his father? Why had he not come to save them?

"Dustil," he heard ahead of him. His blood froze and his stomach lurched again. He knew that voice. It was his mother.

He could hardly make his legs move toward her, but he could see her, dark hair a cloud around her head. She was pinned under a beam, heavy metal pushing on her stomach and legs. "Mother," he said, and tugged at the beam. It was too heavy to move.

"Dustil," she said again, reaching her hand to his, and he held it.

"Mother, I'll get this off of you—"

Her eyes widened as she saw something behind him. "Look out!" she cried.

Dustil turned but was suddenly swept off his feet and held with his head parallel to the ground. "Get his ID band," he heard, in the muffled voice of an armored Sith soldier. He struggled, but there were more than one, and his arm was wrenched behind him.

"Kid's name is Onasi," he heard.

"He's on the list. Take him."

"No, let go! Let go!" he shouted, desperately trying to break free. He could hear his mother's cries below him.

"Don't take him! Leave him alone! Dustil!"

One of them must have had a shock stick, because the last thing he saw was his mother's terrified, tear-streaked face, and then everything went painful and black.

On the bench in the Enclave, Dustil methodically turned the rock over and over in his hand. He'd relived those hours every day for a year before he refused to let himself think of it again. His discipline was nearly absolute—he had almost convinced himself to forget about it when his father showed up at the Academy with Revan. It all came flooding back then, along with all the anger and hatred he'd built up over the four years. He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. He had to stop doing this. He had to stop moping and get on with his day. He had to pack some things before he and Revan left tomorrow, he needed to say goodbye to his father, and he hoped to download some music for the trip. Dustil turned and started back toward the Enclave entrance.

Unexpectedly, he saw his father walking from the Enclave with a pack thrown over his shoulder. His blasters were holstered to his belt, which meant he was leaving the compound—weapons were forbidden inside. He must not have seen Dustil, because he walked straight past him toward the door, a grim expression on his face.

"Father?" Dustil asked.

Carth turned and saw him. "Dustil! I looked for you inside, but no one knew where you'd gone. I'm glad you caught me." The cheeriness in his voice struck a false note with Dustil.

"Caught you? Where are you going?"

"Back to Telos, actually, for a few months. The Fleet wants me to act as liaison to the reconstruction. I thought you and Case might come with me, but I was told that you're. . .busy." His knuckles were white around the strap of his shoulder pack.

"Well, I was going to come talk to you about it, but Revan—"

"Don't call her that," Carth snapped, his voice full of command. Dustil instantly wanted to apologize, and that made him angry.

"That's her name, isn't it?" he countered snidely.

"Not to you, it's not. Do you understand me?"

Something about the strained look on his father's face made him not want to start another full-out fight about Revan. "Yes, sir." He couldn't quite keep the sulk out of his voice.

Carth grasped his shoulder tightly. "I know you're a man now, but you're still just sixteen to me. Be careful on Korriban, and—and take care of Case."

Dustil nodded. "See you soon."

Carth held him for just a moment longer and then walked out the Enclave door. He didn't look back.


	4. Chapter 3

**THREE**

All he had to do was get the ship safely into hyperspace, and he would have four quiet, solitary days in which he could get himself piss drunk and forget all about Case and the mess that had become. He could forget about his humiliation when she hesitated on his proposal and the sick horror when she reached into his head and _made him_ think something he didn't believe. Like he wasn't even human.

Carth carefully edged away from Coruscant's gravity well and engaged the standard engines to clear him to the hyperspace route. He used to be able to get back to Telos from anywhere in the galaxy without a second thought, but the recent destruction of the surfaces of Dantooine and Taris had subtly altered the gravity dynamics of the sector. He had to calculate the whole route from scratch.

A warning light flashed, and he kicked underneath the console. The red light faded out. Not for the first time that day, Carth wished for the relative luxury of the _Ebon Hawk_. That had been a nice-sized ship, and she'd handled surprisingly well. The _Solar Wind_ sounded like she'd be fast, but the military-issue hyperspace cruiser was just one step up from a retired fighter shuttle. It was slow, it was old, it and it barely had room for one crew member. Cargo hold big enough for a speeder and bunk, control room and bridge, that was it. It didn't even have rear gun turrets—if he needed to fight someone, it would have to be head-on.

"You are leaving Coruscant space, _Solar Wind_," the space traffic controller said over his comm. "Good journey."

"Thank you, Coruscant Control. _Solar Wind_ out."

Coordinates programmed, Carth engaged the hyperspace drive and felt the familiar push back into the pilot chair as the stars streaked out ahead of him. A moment later, there were no stars to be seen, only the dim glow that told him he'd hit hyperspace without incident.

A sudden crash in the cargo hold brought him up sharply in his seat. There wasn't even anything hung up on the sidewalls in there, not with the cheap stabilizers the _Solar Wind_ equipped. Nothing should be crashing. He quietly unbuckled the restraints, unholstered his blasters and made his way back to the rear compartment. He listened at the heavy metal door and heard coughing. Someone was aboard.

He kicked open the hatch and trained his blasters on the faint shimmer next to the speeder. "Turn off your stealth generator or I'll shoot," he ordered.

"No, don't shoot, I'm sorry," a familiar voice replied. A second later, the shimmer solidified into a miserable blue Twi'lek crouched under the speeder wing.

"Mission!"

"Yeah, it's me," she replied, staring at the ground. She looked up. "Hey, point those things somewhere else, will ya?"

Carth realized his blasters were still aimed squarely at her forehead. He reholstered them and helped Mission to her feet. "What the hell are you doing here? This is a military assignment!"

"Seemed like fun?" she asked hopefully, a sheepish grin on her face.

Carth glared at her silently, arms crossed. _So much for getting piss drunk_, he thought.

She finally broke under his scrutiny. "Okay! Okay! You don't have to be such a jerk! I came to your room to ask Case about Dus—something, and I heard you guys arguing. I bribed the Enclave welcome attendant to tell me which ship you'd been assigned, and I sneaked aboard on the speeder while they were loading it. Pretty smart, huh?" She looked ruefully at the speeder behind her. "But this hunk of junk jumped into hyperspace like someone kicked it, and I fell off the speeder. Aren't you supposed to be some big war hero or something? You'd think they'd give you a better ship than this pile of poodoo."

Carth sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'll go back up to the bridge and take us out of hyperspace, go back to Coruscant. It will make me late, Mission, and I don't like to be late."

"No, don't take me back! I want to go with you!"

"You can't come with me—it's too dangerous, and I won't have time to watch you. Why don't you want to go back to Coruscant? The Council said you could stay there as long as you wanted. I'll be back in a few months, and Case said she'd be back in a couple, too."

Mission studied the ground. When she looked back up, Carth was surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes. "I don't want to get left on Coruscant by myself," she said in a small voice. "Sometimes, people say they're going to come back for you, and they never do." She actually looked like what she was for once, Carth realized—a half-grown girl, scared to death.

Carth couldn't stand to see her crying. He opened his arms, and she buried herself in his jacket and clung to his waist like she was drowning. "Mission," he said quietly, "I thought you didn't need a bunch of old people watching what you're doing."

She sniffed and spoke into his chest. "I know, I don't, but. . .but. . .without Big Z, I just—" She pulled up and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I've never had anyone who worried about me before, except Big Z, and it just seemed like you and Case did. . .I guess I liked having you around a little."

Carth sighed again. He didn't know what it would be like to be completely alone at fourteen. He shouldn't have assumed that she didn't want arrangements made for her while he and Case were on their assignments.

"I'm sorry, Mission," he said. "I should have talked to you about what we were doing. But you still can't come with me on this trip—it's too dangerous."

"You asked Case to come with you," she challenged.

The back of his neck grew hot. If she knew that, then she knew about—

"And what the heck happened between you two? First you ask her to marry you and then you run away like she turned into a Gamorrean? She cried for an hour after you left, you know."

"She did? But she—" Carth cut off his words. "No, I'm not discussing this with you, Mission. It's none of your business, and that's the end of that."

"But—"

He turned away and walked back up to the bridge without another word. It didn't matter that she was sorry after she mind-raped him—it was the fact that she'd done it to begin with that mattered. _Maybe she just made a mistake, Onasi. Like you've never done that. _

"Fine! Don't talk to me! I'll just stay back here and drink all the Corellian whiskey you stashed in this locker! Carth? Aw, come on, you don't want me to become a cantina girl, do you? Carth?"

He smiled in spite of himself. Mission was a distraction, at least. He had to figure out what to do with her, though. Maybe he could leave her with some people he still knew on Telos. They'd keep her safe while he was figuring out what the Sith were up to. He pushed down the nagging sense that nothing was safe enough on Telos, that every home was a target for another bombing. It was different now that Saul was dead. He hoped.

* * *

It was a dream. He knew because it was always the same dream.

He was standing on the bridge of the Leviathan, but not as he had seen it last, when they were looking for the Star Forge. It was the Leviathan as it had been when he was stationed aboard it, seven years ago. She had been new then. It was an honor to be assigned to her.

He knew, as he walked through the bridge doors, that the ship would be empty. It always was. His boots clanked hollowly as he walked down the hallway. He automatically checked for his blasters even though he knew they wouldn't be on his belt. Officers were required to wear a sidearm while on active duty, but he never had them on the ghost ship.

Suddenly, he was running, desperately looking through the ship, looking for—someone. He could never remember who, or why. But the panic in his chest grew and the air caught in his throat and he knew that he had only a short time to find this person. A terrible tragedy was looming and he could prevent it if he could just find someone, anyone, on this ship.

As he always did in this dream, he came to the door of his quarters. Junior officers bunked two to a room, but he knew no one would be inside. It didn't matter how many times he went through the door, the person he had come to find was never there. But he went through again. Maybe this time would be different.

Instead, as always, smoke poured out of the room. Acrid, rancid, choking smoke that let no light through. He coughed and knew he shouldn't go inside, but there might be some slight chance, some difference in this dream that would let him find—whoever it was. He had to try. Two meters in, he went to his knees, no breath in his lungs, and he knew he would black out and wake up, shivering and sweaty, in his bunk. He always did. Unless this was the time that he died here.

The smoke dimmed before him.

"Carth!" Someone outside the room. There was never anyone on the ship. It was only him. He was the only one left.

Without transition, he was outside the room. It was Case who had called him out. She was dressed in her battle armor and her yellow lightsaber was ignited in her hand. She looked at him, smiled.

"I'll go." she said.

"Who are we looking for?"

She didn't answer, only walked into the room. The light from her saber glowed sickly for just a moment before it was eaten by the smoke. She would die inside. She had gone in to die.

"No! Case! Don't go!"

He tried to go in after her, drag her back out, but the door was suddenly closed and locked. He rattled the handle, pounded on the door. "Case!"

She was gone. He was alone again.

"Case!"

He jerked awake and for a panicked second didn't know where he was. He recognized finally that he was slouched down in the pilot chair of the _Solar Wind_, feet propped up on the control panel. He didn't think he'd shouted aloud this time. He got to his feet and tried to calm himself by running a routine check on the hyperdrive. He was drenched in sweat and he still had the panicked sense that he'd lost someone. It was the same damn dream.

He'd stopped having the dream when he killed Saul. Four long years of the dream, of waking up terrified, of terrifying his occasional bedmate with his shouts, of never getting a complete night's sleep. Killing Saul hadn't brought him peace, but it had at least stopped the dream. And now it was back, and this time Case died. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop her from going in the room, no matter how many times he had the dream. She would die every night. He leaned his forehead against the panel. He didn't think he could take it again.

"Did you sleep at all, Carth? You look like ronto puke." Mission came into the bridge from the cargo bay. She was balancing two cups of caffa and two protein bars. He took one of each before she dumped it all on the controls.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just. . .checking the hyperdrive."

Mission slung herself into the pilot chair and set her caffa down on the throttle gauge. A pointed glance from Carth and she moved it poutingly to the floor. "Are you sure you don't want to crash in the bunk for a while? I'll watch the ship." She looked irritatingly refreshed after an apparent full night's rest.

He shook his head, gulped the hot beverage. "I slept enough. I need to catch up on the news on Telos, anyway. What are you doing today? Besides cleaning the intake vents, of course."

"Aw, Carth, why do I have to do that, anyway? It's so gross! All that spacecrud."

"You snuck on the ship, missy, not me."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Waste my talents, see if I care! I could be the next great starpilot, but noooo."

"It builds character. And if you do a good job, I'll teach you how to calibrate the engine throttle."

"Okay, then. But you'd better not go back on your promise!" Mission opened her protein bar and chewed thoughtfully. The viewscreen glowed dimly. "So, tell me about Telos, Carth. What is—was—it like?"

"It's a small colony, only about forty years old. My folks were part of the first group of colonists, so I'm a first-generation Telos native." He let the small talk and caffa clear the last of the dream-induced panic from his brain. He was glad to have someone on board to distract him from the dream's disturbing new manifestation.

"Where were they from?" she asked.

"Voran 5. They were tenant farmers and the Republic was giving land away to anyone who would agree to farm it for at least fifteen years. They jumped at the chance. There's no native intelligent species on Telos, so most of the planet is arable. Lots of fishing, too." Some of his earliest memories were of helping the fishermen unload the boats after the summer storms. The fish were usually bigger than he was. "It was one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy. A good place to raise a family. I couldn't wait to leave when I was a kid, but I couldn't wait to get back after my last tour of duty."

"That sounds really nice, Carth. I guess—I guess it's not so beautiful now, is it?"

He shook his head, his lips pressed hard together. "No, but I hear they're making good progress on the reconstruction. You know, they thought that it would be uninhabitable after Saul—after the attack. But a few people refused to leave, and then others came back. My home settlement, Marne, was one of those places. Hopefully, in another twenty years, it will be completely repaired."

"Twenty years! That's, like, forever!" Mission exclaimed. "I guess the people must really love it there to spend so much time fixing it. I don't think anyone ever cared that much about Taris. I mean, it was home and everything, but it's not like I wanted to stay there forever." She crumpled her protein wrapper and got to her feet. "I guess I'll go clean out those disgusting intake vents. I should have gone to Kashyyyk—Big Z wouldn't have made me do this."

Carth chuckled. "No, you'd be scrubbing moss off the meeting house. Get to it, girl, and we can tune up the throttle later."

She left the bridge, still grumbling, and Carth downloaded his assignment specs to a datapad. It was about time he got back to work.

* * *

Mission tried to keep the excitement off her face the _Solar Wind _touched down at the Republic spaceport on Telos. Things had been so exciting for so long when they were looking for the Star Forge, and then they'd spent three long months on Coruscant doing nothing much. It was good to be _doing_ something again.

Carth came back to the cargo bay. There wasn't a co-pilot chair on the small ship, so he'd made her sit on the bunk while he took the ship into the atmosphere. Typical overprotective Carth. He'd insisted on bunking on the bridge, but even through the cargo door, he'd woken her up with his shouts the last three nights. She had been pretending like she didn't hear anything, but it worried her. She hoped things would be better when they got to Telos.

Carth had his blasters holstered and his flight jacket on. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"I thought they'd never let us land," she replied, making sure her shock stick was handy. She preferred blades, but thought they'd be a little suspicious strapped across her back. She wasn't a soldier, and she didn't think the locals would take well to an armed Twi'lek wandering their city. So she left them in the speeder.

"They were running some sort of clearance check on the ship," Carth explained. He shook his head. "Security is a lot tighter since I was here last, but they've had a lot of problems in the last year, so I suppose it's to be expected."

They walked down the gangplank and were met immediately by TSF soldiers wielding blaster rifles. "Stop right there," the first ordered.

Irritation showed on Carth's face. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"All visitors are subject to search at the Republic Embassy. You are required to come with us."

"We're not visitors—we're here on official Fleet business. I'm a citizen of Telos and a Fleet officer, and this is not how I expect to be—"

"Captain Onasi!" a heavyset man in Republic colors entered the docking bay. He waved off the police. "I've been expecting you! Come right this way." Mission thought he looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't place him.

"Roland Wann?" Carth asked. "What are you doing here? I thought you were on Manaan."

Mission realized that it was the same official who had been running the embassy on the water planet. She hadn't liked him much then—he was pretty sleazy—and she didn't like him any more as he ushered them into his office.

"Well," he blustered, waving them to chairs, "after you and your Jedi friends blew up my kolto plant, the Diplomacy Consul dismantled our operations there. So I'm running our little outpost here on Telos."

Wann's office was furnished well—very well, Mission thought, for a "little outpost." The walls were paneled in a pale golden wood, and holos of foreign landscapes were placed around the room. One entire wall was covered in a holo of what she assumed was Telos, with different locations highlighted.

"How is the reconstruction going?" Carth asked. Mission saw him glancing surreptitiously around the room. She didn't think he liked the posh surroundings any more than she did.

"Oh, fine, fine. As well as can be expected, I suppose. You know these outland colonies—everyone's so suspicious of government. But we're trying. Now, the Fleet told me you were coming, but didn't say why. Is it pleasure? Or will you be with us for a while?" In spite of his cheerful words, he didn't look happy at the prospect.

Carth smiled tightly. "I don't know how long we'll be on Telos. I'm here to help coordinate the reconstruction with the Fleet, and Mission here is with me."

Wann seemed to notice her for the first time. He leaned across the desk and shook her hand. "Mission, nice to meet you. Such a pretty blue color. But, how old are you, dear? Shouldn't you be in a Republic school?"

Mission sputtered, "I ain't—"

Carth cut in smoothly. "Mission's parents were friends of mine in the Fleet, but they were on Taris when the Sith attacked. She's traveling with me and attending classes remotely."

"Ah, remote learning. It's been a great success. Well, I wish you the best, dear, and I'm sorry to hear about your parents. Terrible thing, that was. Maybe you can be a pilot when you grow up, like Captain Onasi." He was just oozing condescension.

Mission smiled and held her tongue only by imagining impaling Wann with the fancy pen set on his desk. She smiled widely and said breathlessly, "Oh, I don't know, Mr. Wann. That seems like such an _important_ job. I'm just a kid. Maybe you can teach me what _you_ do, though? I'd just _love_ to see what _you_ do all day!"

Carth managed to turn his laugh into a cough. "Er, right. Listen, Roland, we're on our way to Marne. Is there anything else we can help you with?"

Wann jumped to his feet. "Marne? Of course, of course. That was your home colony, I believe. The local government there has been rather—reluctant to accept oversight from the Republic. Well, you'll just need the vaccine before you go—"

"Vaccine? What are you talking about? The Fleet makes sure I'm up on all my immunizations."

Wann pressed a button on his desk. "Santo, would you please send a medtech in here? We'll need two vaccinations." He smiled in what Mission imagined was supposed to be a reassuring way. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about. Since the attack, we've had some problems with the water, and several people have become ill. Some seriously, I'm afraid. But we've together a vaccine that should keep both of you perfectly healthy. I'm afraid it's required before we can allow you out of the Embassy. After all, the Fleet would be very unhappy with us if its favorite war hero came down with the Telosian flu, wouldn't it?"

The medtech came in with a tray of syringes. She smiled brightly. "I hope no one here is afraid of needles!"

Mission hated them. In fact, she felt a little green just looking at the antiseptic tray. But Carth had already shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. She didn't want to look like a baby in front of everyone. She pushed up her own sleeve nervously.

The tech approached Carth first. She was very fair and had bouncy blonde curls. "I just need a _tiny_ bit of information first, Captain. Okay?" Her voice went up perkily at the end of each sentence.

Carth sighed. "Yes, of course. What do you need?"

"Okay. Um, your age?"

"Thirty-nine."

"And your place of birth?"

"I was born outside of Marne on Telos. Look, isn't all of this in my file?"

The tech blushed and looked helplessly at Wann. Wann stepped up and clapped Carth on the shoulder. "Of course, of course. We don't want to delay you, Captain. We just need to give the proper form of the vaccine. It varies depending on how much exposure to Telos you've had. You still own some land here, yes? How long since you've been back?"

"Four years. I was here after the attack, but I haven't been back since then."

Wann looked at the tech and made a quick gesture. Mission looked at Carth sharply, but he was staring impatiently at the ground. The tech pulled up a bottle and put the syringe inside. "Okay, the 420 strain, then. Now, don't worry, Captain, you'll feel just a _teeny_ little prick." She injected the vaccine into his right arm. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Carth ignored her, quickly rolling down his sleeve and putting back on his jacket.

The tech turned brightly to Mission. "Oh, my, you're so pretty!" she exclaimed. "You could be one of those dancers!"

Mission glared at her. "We don't all dance, you know." The tech flushed again.

"Mission—" Carth warned.

The tech recovered quickly. "Okay, sweetie. Now, you weren't born here, were you?"

"No, I was born on—"

"Okay, that's all I need. You get the 450 strain. Now, don't move!"

Mission couldn't look. But it really was just a tiny prick, less than a medpac, even. "Is that it?" she asked.

"That's all, sweetie! Now you two can go. You might feel a little tired in about 28 hours, but don't worry about that. You'll need a booster if you stay on Telos for more than two years. Bye-bye!" She swept out of the room.

Carth shook Wann's hand. "Thanks for your help, Roland," he said. "I may be back to see you if the Fleet needs something."

"Oh, anytime, anytime, Captain. You come back whenever you need anything. We'll keep your ship docked here, of course, but it only takes 28 hours to process your leave papers. Just give us warning and we'll have her ready for you to go." After insisting that they come to his office, Wann seemed to be hustling them out as quickly as possible.

The speeder had been unloaded while they were in Wann's office, and they hopped in. Wann gave them a mock salute. "Fly carefully, Captain! And, Mission, you just let me know if you want to join the Republic school here on Telos, okay? I even teach a class or two myself."

"Yeah, right," Mission grumbled. Carth hit the accelerator and they were gone.

Mission stuck out her tongue when they were out of eyeshot. "That guy is seriously slimy, Carth."

Carth nodded. "I'm not sure what was going on there, but it's a little suspicious, if you ask me. Wann's too important to be stuck here on Telos."

"Don't you guys work together or something? You're both Republic, right?"

"No, Fleet and Diplomacy are different wings of the Republic government. We have a long history of disliking each other. I've always thought Diplomacy was too covert for its own good." He frowned. "I don't really know why Diplomacy would be here at all. Telos is part of the Republic, and there's no non-members to negotiate with or worry about."

"Well, at least we don't have to stay there," Mission said. "How long will it take to get to Marne?"

"Only a couple hours," he replied, a little distractedly. He must still be puzzling over the exchange with Wann.

Mission studied the landscape as they flew. There were tall mountains in the distance, jagged, snowcapped, and faintly purple in the late afternoon sun. The sky had slanted to gray, a few thin clouds casting shadows as they skimmed the high grass. It was beautiful, especially in contrast to the land stretching out immediately before them: grassland marked with boulders, gray lakes reflecting the sky, and enormous scars into the earth, like a giant had clawed the ground. No grass grew in the jagged creases, and the earth around it was dead. It smelled faintly of sulfur. They passed what Mission assumed had been a house, or a farm. It was a burned-out shell, ash crumbling into dust around it. She thought she saw a hand, or just the skeletal remains of a hand, before she turned away.

"Oh, Carth," was all she could manage.

He sighed and smiled a little. "It's better, believe it or not. This is the same way I came when we landed after the attack, and nothing was growing here. It was all bare earth and smoke."

"But it's still so empty!"

"It will be, for a while. But maybe we can change that while we're here. We can't do much, but it all helps."

Mission thought about that as they rode in silence. It would really be something to make a difference here. She'd never built anything worth keeping before. She was suddenly distracted by a haze in the distance. She leaned forward and pointed. "Hey, what's that?" she asked.

"What?" Carth squinted ahead. He checked the instruments on the speeder dash. "Mission, did you bring your stealth generator with you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Activate it."

She was indignant. "Why? Are we being attacked?" She wasn't going to just hide every time they came to a battle.

Carth kept the speeder to its maximum speed, but as they crested a small hill, two speeders flanked them and one came up behind. "Do it now!" he ordered.

Mission flipped the switch on her belt and saw her hands fade out to a shimmer in front of her. She clambered around to the back of the speeder and pulled her shock stick, cursing her lack of blades. She knew what was about to happen—she'd seen speeders get jacked plenty of times on Taris.

As she expected, a fourth speeder pulled out of a crevasse and jumped in front of Carth's vehicle. It slowed, forcing Carth to slow as well. "Hang on!" he shouted, and cut the engines completely. They stalled out with a jerk and the speeder dropped the few feet to the ground. The hijackers, still going full speed, zoomed ahead. Mission was expecting the drop and managed to leap clear. Carth was already on his feet and firing at the rapidly returning speeders.

He caught one of the speeders in its stabilizer and it crashed to the ground, spraying Mission with debris and dirt. The other speeders had stopped out of Carth's blaster range and their occupants ran toward them, their own blasters firing. Mission carefully ran a large perimeter around the approaching group, hoping that Carth could hold them off until she got close enough to help.

Three of the six made the mistake of stopping close together. Without a second's hesitation, Mission lobbed a frag grenade at them, and they disappeared in the smoke. When the haze cleared, all three were dead. She grinned ferociously. _Take that, thugs!_

The remaining three looked around them wildly. One of them, a human with shocking red hair, shouted, "It's the blue Twi'lek! I told you I saw one!"

Carth took him down with a well-placed shot. The other two humans glanced at each other and lobbed grenades of their own. Carth tried to leap away, but they went off before he could get far. A brilliant flare of light and concussion. _Flash grenades_. Carth blinked and shook his head, but Mission knew he couldn't see to shoot. She had to stop them before they got to him!

Running at her top speed, she barreled into the legs of the female and dug furiously at the small of her back with her stick. The woman cried out and bucked, but quickly blacked out from the pain. Mission turned to attack the other, but suddenly found herself in the air with a hand around her throat. "Got you, bitch!"

Mission squirmed and tried to pry her attacker's hand from her throat, but he was huge with strength to match. She dangled, couldn't breathe. With a jerk, the man wrenched the stealth generator from her waist. "Think you can hide from me, huh, girlie?" His voice was harsh, like sand. Mission felt herself slipping into blackness.

Carth came up behind the man and put a blaster to the back of his head. "Drop her. And put your hands in the air."

The man hesitated only for a second before dropping Mission roughly to the ground. She lay there, unable to move, gasping for air. The breath burned in her throat. Her attacker put up his hands, but suddenly spun and kicked Carth square in the chest. Carth stumbled backward, losing one of his blasters. "Still can't see too good, eh, Republic?" the man taunted. He reached for the fallen blaster while Carth struggled to his feet.

Mission looked around desperately for something, anything, to use as a weapon. Her eyes caught on a fist-sized rock just next to her head. She grabbed, desperately, and flung it forward. It missed, but caught the man on the ear. He roared and clutched at it, blood coming from between his fingers. A second later, he was flat on his back, a smoking hole in his chest.

Mission collapsed back to the ground, gasping and sobbing. She lay there a moment pushing herself to her feet. She scrubbed her face with her shoulder. She always lost it after a battle.

Carth was ahead of her, checking on the unconscious woman that Mission had shocked. He looked up as she approached, squinting. "You okay, Mission?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She was glad her voice wasn't too shaky. "You?"

He nodded and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Flash grenades don't hurt you. What did you do to distract him?"

She grinned. "I'm not bad with a rock."

He returned her grin. "Nice job, kid."

"Not bad yourself, shooting someone when you're half blind. Who the heck are these people, the welcoming committee?" The woman was still face down. Mission rolled her over with the toe of her boot.

The woman was pretty, with long, dark hair tied up into some kind of complicated knot. Young, though older than Mission. She was wearing loose trousers and a tunic. "Gee, she doesn't look like someone who was trying to kill us," Mission remarked.

Carth was rummaging through the big attacker's pack. He held up restraining collars. "They were kidnappers, not assassins."

"Kidnappers?" Mission was surprised. "But they were shooting at us!" She looked down at the woman's still-holstered blaster. It was set to stun. "How did they even know we were here?"

Having taken everything of value from the corpses, Carth made for the speeder and its comm. "I'm not sure they knew who we were—they might just attack anyone coming from the Republic base." He flipped the comm to the base frequency. "Republic base, this is Captain Onasi. We were attacked en route to Marne, five contras down and one injured."

"Copy that, Captain," the base guard replied. "We'll send a sweep crew your way immediately. Do you require medical aid?"

"No, we weren't hurt. The surviving contra is stunned, but she'll be fine."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Please secure the survivor and await our sweep crew. Republic base out."

Carth tossed Mission a stim. "Wake her up."

Mission injected the stim and backed up, shock stick ready. The woman moaned and blinked. She tried to sit up and gasped, clutching at her back. A moment later, she realized where she was and looked up at them warily. "Who are you?"

Carth's blaster was aimed squarely at her head. "We're asking the questions here, sister. Who are _you_?"

The woman glared and said nothing.

Mission saw the woman surreptitiously reaching toward her blaster. "Sorry, lady," Mission said, holding the missing blaster up by the barrel, "but we're not that stupid."

The woman managed to haul herself to a sitting position. She panted with the effort. "I won't tell you anything, even if you torture me."

Carth rolled his eyes. "The Republic doesn't torture its citizens, even violent ones like you."

The woman sneered at him. "You _are_ stupid if you think that. The Republic has occupied our planet, killed our citizens, and now seeks even to turn our children against us. Sith, Republic, there is no difference to the people of Telos."

"Geez, lady, you're really full of it." Mission couldn't help herself. This woman sounded like the crazies from the Taris Undercity. "Who do you think's paying to rebuild your planet? It ain't you, that's for sure. And if you think--"

The sound of an approaching speeder in the distance interrupted her. The woman's eyes widened in panic and she desperately tried to get to her feet. "I will not be taken!" She reached her right hand around the back of her head.

"No!" Carth leapt for her.

There was a small pop, and the woman collapsed, lips turning blue. She had a small smile on her face. Mission looked on in horror.

Carth bent over the woman's body briefly, then shook his head. "Damn."

"She killed herself?" Mission was incredulous. "But that's crazy! No one was going to hurt her! Jail is probably better than whatever cave she was living in, anyway."

The speeder they had heard pulled up, and two Republic police jumped out. "Captain, Miss Vao," the leader, a Duros, greeted. He looked beyond them to the dead woman. "Another one killed herself, huh? Well, saves us the trouble of interrogating her."

"This has happened before?" Carth asked.

The subordinate police officer shrugged. "Crazy separatists. They blame the Republic for their problems, as if they would be better on their own. They always kill themselves before we can interrogate them."

"If you know that, why don't you stop them before they trigger the poison release?" Carth asked. Mission could see the disapproval on his face and hid a grin as the younger officer wilted. This local cop was no match for Carth's "authority voice."

"Well, sir, I, uh—"

The superior officer broke in briskly. "I'm afraid that's a matter restricted to the Diplomacy Corps, sir. Thank you for your help, and we apologize that your trip was interrupted. Have a safe journey to Marne." The Duros gestured sharply to the younger man, who slung the woman over his shoulder and put her in the back of the speeder. He covered her with a tarp.

Carth's eyes narrowed. "You're done with us?"

The Duros sighed. "Yes, Captain, that is what I said. I know that the Republic Fleet doesn't respect the local police, but we have the jurisdiction here, not you. Please, be on your way."

"Whatever you say, buddy. Come on, Mission. Let's go."

They got back in the speeder and resumed their heading. "What was that all about, Carth?" Mission asked.

Carth frowned. "They didn't take our statements. They should have—they don't even know what happened." He fumbled around behind him and came up with a datapad. One eye on his flying, he scrolled through it.

Mission thought about the dead woman who had attacked them. She was still a little disturbed by the dead smile on the woman's face. She couldn't imagine just killing herself like that. But before the woman died—she almost sounded like she was happy.

Carth frowned at the datapad. "There was something wrong with that entire exchange."

"You mean, they weren't real cops?"

Carth shrugged. "I don't know. They might have been. I don't know a lot about police procedure, but I don't think they were handling that woman's body properly. They didn't make any attempt to preserve evidence."

Mission wasn't too surprised. There had been corruption on every other planet they'd been to—she didn't see why should Telos be any different. "You think Wann's dirty?" he asked.

Carth put the datapad down. "I hope not, Mission, but anything's possible. Maybe we can find out more when we get to Marne."

Mission rummaged around in her sack and pulled out a protein bar. Battles always made her hungry. "I hope you guys have some decent food on this planet," she said, opening the package, "because I'm getting really sick of these protein bars!" A smile cracked Carth's serious expression, and they continued on their way.


	5. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

It wasn't her dream. She didn't know how she knew, exactly, but as Case wandered around the empty spaceship, she knew that she wasn't supposed to be there. The ship was familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place it. It had the titansteely smell of a new vessel.

"Hello?" she called. "Anyone here?"

Her words echoed back to her. She tried not to worry. She'd had dreams like this before, when she was still bonded to Bastila. It was the same sense of displacement, of not being where she belonged. People shouldn't be in other people's dreams. But she knew that she would wake up eventually—at least, she always had before.

Was it Bastila's dream? She didn't think so. Bastila's dreams always had a hazy feel to them, like they were old memories. This dream had a much sturdier feel. She could almost smell the panic, the terror, that wound its way through the empty ship. Whosever dream this was, it wasn't a pleasant one.

She approached a door and entered. Three stasis chambers were stacked against the wall, their yellow fields glowing faintly in the artificial light. She realized with a sinking stomach where she was. The_ Leviathan_. Case sternly suppressed the memories of this room that came flooding back to her.

_No. I will not suffer here again._ She turned on her heel and walked out of the chamber, the memories fading already, as if they had been attached to that room. She needed to find the owner of this dream and get out. The air seemed thin here, as though something was consuming it. Suddenly, in the shifting way that you move around in dreams, she was standing in the crew quarters of the ship. She had never been in this room, but every ship's quarters looked the same. "Hello?" she called again.

Carth was suddenly in front of her, but he didn't seem to see her. "Carth?" she asked. He was trying to get into the nearest quarters. The door was locked. He pounded on it. "Case!" he shouted. The panic haunting the ship was coming from him.

"Carth, I'm here," she said. She was beginning to fear that she couldn't get out of this dream, of what was obviously his dream.

Carth turned finally and looked in her direction. The panic emanating from him slid dangerously to despair. "I've lost her again," he said dully.

He still didn't recognize her. "Carth, it's me. I'm here." She reached out to touch him, but she was suddenly in a room full of smoke. She couldn't see anything, could hardly breathe. She used the Force to clear herself a small pocket of air, but even that was being rapidly consumed by an unseen fire. She ignited her lightsaber, the glow making eerie shapes in the smoke. "Carth?" she called.

"Case!" She could hear pounding in the distance, but couldn't tell from which direction it came. The smoke was starting to crowd in around her face. She had the sudden fear that she wouldn't be able to get out of Carth's dream in time. She closed her eyes, tried to see with the Force. Someone was approaching, but it wasn't Carth. It was—

Case startled awake, hand reaching for her lightsaber. A second later, she realized that she was on her bunk on the transport ship to Korriban. She was safe.

What the hell had that been all about? She didn't like the idea of sharing Carth's dreams—certainly not his nightmares. She'd heard him, sometimes, in the men's cabin on the _Ebon Hawk_, muttering or tossing in his sleep. Mostly, she noticed, he just didn't sleep much. That had changed, she realized, after the _Leviathan_. After Saul was dead. Apparently, whatever nightmares haunted him had started up again, and this time, she was attuned to them, even half a galaxy away.

She scrubbed a hand across her face and swung her legs off the bunk. This was exactly the kind of distraction she thought had ended when Carth left her on Coruscant. She didn't want to be connected to his mental state, and he, no doubt, didn't want her populating his dreams.

_But he was looking for you_, her mind insisted.

She shook her head and made for the observation deck. She'd have to start putting herself in a trance or something if this kept on. Carth was gone, she'd done it on purpose, and she needed to get over him and get on with her mission. She ignored the tightness in her chest she'd been getting every time she thought of Carth.

"You look like a rancor with a hangover," Dustil greeted her as she entered the room. He was seated with his back against the starboard wall, legs stretched across the bench. The observation window showed a mass of stars and a yellow-gray ball to port. They had dropped out of hyperspace yesterday and were approaching the Korriban system.

"Watch it, kid," Case growled. "I'm a lot like a rancor until I've had some caffa. You should know better by now." They'd been traveling for five uneventful days.

Dustil laughed and turned back to the window. "Get some, then," he ordered. "The captain says we'll land at the Czerka base in six hours."

Case tried to suppress her shudder as she fumbled with the caffa dispenser and chose a nearly-ripe mala fruit from a bowl. She didn't want to go back down there. The Dark side tainted everything on the planet, even the Czerka port, and it got in her head, distracted her, made her jump at the slightest sound. Canderous had been ready to knock her out and carry her back to the ship when they were last there, she had annoyed him so.

She joined Dustil at the table and started peeling the spines from the blue fruit. He looked thoughtful as he stared at the approaching planet. If it was hard for her to go back, imagine what it was like for him—he'd spent the better part of two years at the Sith Academy. Now he had to pretend like he hadn't left on his own, hadn't joined the Jedi, hadn't rejected the Dark side.

_But did he?_ The Council wasn't so sure. They'd felt him hiding something at his Evaluation; part of her job on this mission was to watch how he behaved when reimmersed in the Dark side. She desperately hoped, for all of their sakes, that he had truly turned to the Light. The boy was powerful enough to be a true threat to them all.

"So, Revan," he said languidly, "do you think you can convince them you've turned back to the Dark?"

She suppressed the urge to Force Push him across the room. He was doing it on purpose, she reminded herself. The entire five-day trip had been nothing but a series of trials in teenage behavior. "I told you not to call me that, Dustil. It's not my name."

He sneered. "It will be down there. You might as well get used to it again, _Revan_."

What little patience she had snapped. "Were you always a brat, Dustil, or did the Sith do that to you? I don't see your father putting up with your crap."

"My father might, but my _mother_ would not have. But she's dead, isn't she, Revan? Whose fault is that? Oh, yes. It's yours."

They were glaring at each other across the table, tension coiled between them like a hot fuse. The mantra of the Code seemed to slip away from her as she tried in vain to calm herself. She Force Boosted her hand across the table and grabbed the boy by the collar. She jerked him toward her.

"Hey!" he shouted. He fumbled for a weapon of his own, but she easily deflected his Force Choke. It looked like the boy had some Dark powers stashed away, after all.

Case brought her face an inch from his. "Now, you listen here, kid," she growled. "I am not Revan, and I'm not going to apologize for anything she did. I'm not going to wallow in guilt for things I didn't do just to satisfy your childish need to blame someone for your misfortune. You can hate me all you want, but that's not going to change anything about me." She shook him hard, banging his teeth together. "_I am stronger than you._ That's something you Sith brats respect, isn't it? Remember that next time you want to be smart with me." She dropped him heavily to the table. She stood over him, anger still choking her.

The boy slowly pushed himself up. He held up a fist and she braced herself for a Force attack, but he lowered it again. "You're something else, _Case_." He said her name in a tone that made it sound exactly like he was saying _Revan_. "And I do respect your strength. No doubt the Sith will, as well." He smiled in a way that made her blood freeze, bowed, and walked out.

A sudden pain in her hand made her look down. She was still holding the mala fruit, clutching it so tightly that one of its spines had been driven into her palm. Dark red blood trickled around the pale blue skin of the fruit. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't have let a bratty teenager goad her to such a wasteful use of her powers. Case took a deep breath and resolved to meditate more. She had to get herself under control before she went down among the Sith. She threw the stained mala in the recycler and wiped off her hand. The fruit was ruined now.

* * *

The Drunk Side was packed, as usual. The lights were dim and tinted purple, giving everything in the bar a ghoulish hue. A band in the corner was putting out some kind of bass-heavy offworlder music. Dustil straightened his Academy uniform and sidled up to the bar. It wasn't the usual bartender, but a Rodian female he didn't recognize. "Hey, barkeep!" he barked.

The Rodian jumped and turned his way, nervously eying his uniform. "Y-yes, sir? What can I get you?" She was actually trembling.

Dustil rolled his eyes. She was going to get killed in here. "You got Corellian whiskey back there, Rodian?"

"Um, well, I don't—let me check." She bent under the bar, clanking bottles as she looked for the whiskey. One of the Academy hopefuls on the other side of the bar reached over and grabbed her rear. She jumped, banging her head on the underside of the bar and knocking a stack of glasses to the ground. The crash caused everyone in the bar to look her way. She stood, pale and trembling.

The kid who had grabbed her sneered. "What's wrong, Rodian? You seem pretty jumpy tonight." His crowd of admirers broke into laughter. The Rodian looked like she was going to faint.

"Hey, wannabe, why don't you find someplace your level to drink, like the sewers?" Dustil called across the bar before he could stop himself. _Great. Way to blend, Dus._ Dustil wasn't sure why he was getting involved.

The kid looked his way and slowly drew a knife. "That doesn't sound like a proper Sith thing to say." He already had a bit of the patrician accent that most of the Sith picked up after a while. "Maybe you have an Academy medallion I can take." His group clapped and whistled in approval. The bar crowd watching the bartender turned its attention to him. Dustil was going to find himself in a noisy fight in another second if he didn't get control of this situation quickly.

Dustil gestured, and the kid flipped up into a Whirlwind. It was a Lightside power, but close enough to neutral that it wouldn't draw any attention. Lots of Academy students learned it. The kid spun, shouting at his friends to get him down. They looked from their friend to Dustil and back but didn't move to help him. He let the kid spin until he got white around the eyes and looked like he might pass out. Dustil dropped him with a thud, and the kid crashed to the ground, toppling the stools around him. Dustil stood at the bar and addressed the now vomiting wannabe and his friends. "Don't mess with the bartenders, idiots, unless you want to mix your own drinks. And don't mess with me. Now, get the hell out of here while I'm still feeling generous." He let a little lightning trickle from his hand to emphasize his point.

The kids hauled their friend to his feet and dragged him from the bar. The bar crowd lost interest and settled back down. Dustil breathed a sigh of relief.

The bartender set a glass of whiskey in front of him. "Here you are, sir, and thank you for your help. My name is Kaltona." She spoke heavily accented Basic.

"Dustil. Those brats will be back home with their rich parents next month, I bet. They aren't Academy material." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Listen, Kaltona, you don't exactly fit in around here. I'd get the next Czerka transport out, if I were you. The next guy might do more than grab your ass."

Kaltona stared at the bar. "I'd like to, but—"

"But what?"

"My husband is here at the Academy, and I'm waiting for him. He went in about nine months ago, and I ran out of credits last week, so I had to find a job. I'm afraid I'm not very good at this."

Dustil's sympathy for the woman was rapidly turning to disgust. No one should be so stupid. "Er, Kaltona, I don't want to burst your bubble or anything, but your husband's not going to be the same guy when he comes out of the Academy. You ought to think about cutting your losses and leaving now." Dustil threw all the Force Persuade he had behind his words, hoping to convince the fool to leave before someone killed her.

He was surprised, then, when the Rodian's fist came down in front of him, shaking his glass. Her face was tight with fury.

"You don't know him! Don't you speak of him like that!" she shouted.

Dustil picked up his glass and took a swig, trying to look nonchalant. He choked on the whiskey and coughed as it burned its way to his stomach. Kaltona laughed at him.

"How old are you anyway, child? You haven't seen enough combat to drink whiskey at all, and certainly not Corellian."

Dustil was inclined to agree with her. He pushed the glass away. "Kaltona, I'm sure your husband is a great guy and all, but I've never met a Dark Jedi who's married. It's just not what being Sith is all about. Besides, what are you going to do, hang around in this bar for another four years? It's a five year school, you know."

Kaltona looked around her, then leaned in closely. "I feel I can trust you, Dustil."

Dustil threw up his hands. He didn't want a confession. "No, listen, I—"

She went ahead like he hadn't spoken. "My husband is not a regular student. He works for Republic Intelligence, and he was only supposed to be inside the Academy for six months." Tears brimmed in her giant eyes. "I'm afraid something terrible has happened to him, but I don't know how to find out. Will you look for him and tell me? Even if he is dead, I just need—need to know."

Dustil sighed and wished he was still fighting with Revan on the transport ship. It was safer. "Fine, fine," he said hurriedly, just to get her away from him. Someone would overhear and that would be the end of him. "I'll see what I can find out. But I can't promise you anything."

Kaltona smiled and wiped her face with a towel. "I knew you were different than the others, Dustil! Thank you. Now," she smiled, "can I get you something besides that whiskey? A mild ale, perhaps?"

Dustil smiled ruefully. "Sure." She brought it to him and went back to attending other customers. He stared morosely at the bar. What had he gotten himself into? As if he didn't have enough to do in the Academy, now he had to look for this woman's husband, who was probably either dead or Dark by now.That's what being helpful got him, trouble.

He looked around impatiently. He was supposed to meet Revan in here half an hour ago. Where the hell was she? Maybe if she'd shown up on time he wouldn't have gotten himself into that mess to begin with.

"That was an impressive handling of the situation with the Sith pretender," came a silky voice next to him. An Echani hunched over the bar on the next stool. Her white hair was hidden under a gray cloak.

"Uh, right," Dustil replied, and went back to his drink. Echani were not a people to mess with—he didn't want her attention.

"I am in search of someone," she continued, "and I thought you might have seen him here. You obviously frequent this cantina." The woman was glancing around the room impatiently.

Dustil suppressed a groan. Not another lost spouse, or brother, or son. What was he, some sort of roaming savior? "You know, I don't really have time—"

"He is a Jedi killer."

Dustil paused. "I thought they were just a rumor." He had heard stories at the Academy of an elite force of Sith who could sneak up on Jedi without them even knowing they were there. They were supposed to be expert assassins who could make a Jedi fall before killing him.

The Echani laughed, an oddly pleasant sound, considering their topic. "No, not rumor, just rare. And he was one of our best. He was supposed to meet me here on Korriban but he has not arrived. A thin Human, dark hair, pale? Usually carries blasters. Have you seen anyone like that, perhaps at the pazaak table?"

Dustil shook his head. The fact that such people even existed made him wonder how the Sith could be defeated. The Jedi had nothing to compare.

The woman put down a credit for her drink and stood. "I was afraid of that. I think he may have left the profession." She leaned in close to Dustil and he resisted the urge to back away. "You know," she said silkily. "you could be a Jedi assassin, I think. I can tell that you're a Force user, but you can hide that from others, can't you? And your orientation, too, I think. You could make Jedi think you're one of them, and they would be easy prey. Your prestige would be very high, very quickly." She flipped him a holodisc and swept away. "Think about it," she whispered.

Dustil turned the holodisc over in his hand, shaken. Somehow, the woman knew about him. And her offer. . .to be the best at something, not just someone's Padawan learner, to have his gifts appreciated. . .it was tempting.

"Looking for me, kid?"

He jumped and stuffed the holodisc into his pocket before Revan could see it. He turned and choked on his drink for the second time that night. "Are you insane?" he sputtered. Revan was dressed in full Jedi regalia—long blue robes, headband, and gloves, with her obviously lightside saber on her belt.

She grinned darkly. "I didn't think there was any point in pretending to be a Sith."

"But you're going to get both of us killed!"

"Probably not. You're going back to classes, and I've already defeated the Academy's management once—I imagine I can do it again if I have to."

Dustil rolled his eyes. "You had help last time, remember? And a lot of medpacs."

Revan waved her hand dismissively. "I'm not worried. Now, remember. We're not working together here. You talk to the other students and see if you can find out what they've found in the ruins. I'm going to start at the top and work my way down. The new headmaster is a Twi'lek named Huntak. We'll meet back here in two weeks to regroup. Got it?"

Dustil nodded. "You have my personal comm passcode. Give me a heads-up before you leave the planet, hey? I don't want to spend the rest of my life here."

She grinned again in a slightly disturbing way and brought her hands together. "Ready?" she asked.

Dustil nodded. He stood and shoved her away as far as he could. "Get the hell away from me, bitch!" he shouted.

Revan drew herself up. Dustil swallowed hard—she was very imposing, and he could feel the Force literally swirling around her. "That's it, brat. I'm taking you in there myself!" She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the bar. Dustil put up a pretense of struggling to get away from her, but he wasn't actually sure that he could have gotten away from her if he'd wanted to. Her fingers were like steel around his bicep.

They continued in that way, him shouting obscenities and Revan stoically ignoring him, out of Dreshdae and across the orange path. Nigel the protocol droid and TD-18 the service droid were roaming around as always. As they approached the door to the Academy, the usually lethargic guard perked up in interest. "Hey, what's going on here?" he asked, voice mechanical through the reflective mask.

Dustil opened his mouth to complain, but Revan didn't give him the chance. "This Academy student has been bothering me. I insist that Headmaster Huntak see me at once," she said haughtily, the Force Persuasion strong enough in her voice that even Dustil believed her for a second.

The guard sounded dazed. "You may enter," he said slowly and stepped aside. "Welcome to the Academy."

They walked through without trouble. "They ought to put stronger-willed people at the front door," she whispered.

They entered the main hall, the door behind them closing with a heavy scrape. The smell of stone and the low hum of voices was familiar to him—the most familiar thing, in fact, that he'd had around him in months. The air was cool and the light was dim. Dustil relaxed a little—here, at least, he knew what to expect.

Revan squeezed his arm hard. "Pay attention!" she hissed.

Dustil shook himself out of his reverie. It was time for phase two of their act. He spotted a group of students in the entryway and yanked himself away from Revan. He drew his lightsaber and bent it menacingly toward her. The red glow reflected in her eyes.

She ignited her own saber, its yellow glow seeming to bleed into the dim light around them. Dustil felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. This was where he learned to wield a saber, where he could feel the Dark giving him strength. Standing before him was a Jedi, but also a Sith. She had been weak and Malak had stolen her crown. He could do the same. He shouted and lunged.

Revan's eyes widened and she brought her own saber up just in time. "Dustil, what are you doing?" she cried.

He didn't answer, just continued to slash. She parried his attacks but did not move offensively. He didn't care how long it took—he was stronger than she, was younger, could last longer. He would defeat her.

"Enough!" a shout boomed through the chamber. He and Revan were both flung to the ground by a Force Push from behind. The back of his head hit the stone, and his rush of adrenaline faded as quickly as it had come. _What are you doing, fool?_ he thought dazedly. _Did you just attack Revan?_

Dustil pushed himself to his feet slowly. Revan was already up, a Force Shield crackling around her. A blue Twi'lek was striding toward them, followed close behind by a group of older students holding unlit sabers. Dustil kept his hand near his saber but did not reignite it.

"What is the meaning of this display? Identify yourselves!" The Twi'lek shouted. He was the largest Twi'lek Dustil had ever seen, over two meters high and solidly built. He was a dark blue, almost black, and the scowl on his face sent Dustil's stomach to his knees. This had to be Huntak.

Dustil found his voice, and was pleased to hear it steady. "Dustil Onasi, Academy student."

Huntak's eyes scraped over him and turned to Revan. "Revan Lanatal," he growled.

Revan smiled. "Master Huntak. It's a pleasure."

Huntak lit his own saber. The pale gray blade didn't glow so much as it absorbed the light around it. There was a snap in the air as every lightsaber in the room ignited. Huntak spoke very quietly. "Why should I not kill you both immediately?"

"Because, Master," Revan purred, "you would die first."

Dustil started sweating. The silence was deafening. It stretched out forever. Suddenly, a smile cracked Huntak's face. He extinguished his saber with a hiss. "Come with me," he ordered.

Revan swept past him without so much as a glance as they followed Huntak to his office. Dustil had never felt so much like a disobedient child as he trailed behind them. He saw out of the corners of his eyes students he knew watching as he passed. What had he been thinking? He had actually _wanted_ to kill Revan. He shook his head and clenched his nails hard into his palm. He had to pull it together or he'd never get off Korriban alive.

They entered Huntak's office. He swung the door shut with a wave of his hand and indicated the chairs in front of his desk. Dustil sat cautiously on the edge of the chair, trying not to stare at all the Dark artifacts scattered around the room. A map of Korriban covered one wall. Revan, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease, one arm thrown across the back of her chair.

"This is a nice change from Uthar's dungeon, Huntak," she remarked.

Huntak grunted. "The man was a masochist at heart. He refused himself pleasure because he thought it made him strong, but it only emphasized his weakness. He deserved to die. By your hand, Revan?" He smiled coldly but continued when Revan made no response. "I see. This is how it will be played. Dustil Onasi—"

Dustil sat up sharply in the chair, then cursed himself for showing his fear. He forced himself to sit back in a more relaxed pose. "Yes, Master?"

"Tell me why you left Korriban." Huntak held his palm toward him.

Dustil felt a cold tendril wrap around his throat. He had his story ready—he had left Korriban because he had been told that Selene had gone to Coruscant. He had returned when he realized Selene wasn't there. But when he opened his mouth to say the words, he found they wouldn't come out. He couldn't make his voice leave his head. Dustil shot a panicked glance toward Revan, then jerked his eyes away.

Huntak smiled. "You will find that you cannot lie to me, Dustil. A particularly useful form of Force Persuasion for a Headmaster, is it not?"

Dustil didn't know what to do. He wasn't strong enough. He was going to betray them both. He was going to tell Huntak everything. The cold wisp around his throat seemed to harden into a titansteel band. He opened his mouth to speak, but a warm tendril of Light reached him first. Revan was looking at him with the detached amusement appropriate to a Sith Lord, but he could feel her tiny stream of Force flowing silently to him. Enough of the Dark cleared away from his mind that he could think again. He couldn't lie, then, but he could tell the truth selectively.

"I left to follow Revan." He forced the words out.

"Indeed? Tell me more, student. You went to Coruscant, we know. You have spoken with your father, the Fleet hero. Is this not true?"

"Yes." He had no idea he had been watched.

"And you were Evaluated by the Jedi Council? Were you selected for training?"

"Yes, Master." He saw Huntak's brow furrow. This was not going well at all. He had to salvage this, somehow. "I hid my Dark Force Powers from them, Master," he gasped. "They do not know my power."

"Yes, I can see the Dark in you," Huntak said contemplatively. "You are strong, boy. But you no longer follow Revan?"

Dustil needed no prompt from the Force Persuasion. He snarled, "The whore does not deserve my strength."

Revan's cool demeanor cracked slightly. She opened her mouth, then closed it.

Huntak chuckled. "No, indeed. Your hatred makes you stronger, student." He abruptly clapped his hands together, breaking the band around Dustil's throat. "Go back to your studies, Dustil Onasi. We will speak again later."

Dustil hesitated a moment before bowing. "You have but to call, Master." He yanked open the door and practically fell out into the hallway. This was part of the plan, he sternly reminded himself. He was to get inside however he could, and Revan would be on her own. But he winced at the words he had spoken in Huntak's office. He had spoken the truth. He did hate Revan.

And it did make him stronger.

* * *

Case breathed a sigh of relief when Dustil finally escaped the room. The Headmaster was powerful, much more so than Uthar had been. Malak had been stronger, but Huntak had more self-control, and that made him dangerous. It had been a near thing with Dustil. She ought to be grateful for the boy's apparent hatred of her—it was the only thing that had allowed him to speak the truth and still gain Huntak's approval.

She forced a slow smile to her face. "You see the boy's power, then, don't you, Huntak?"

Huntak waited for the door to close behind Dustil before replying. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Indeed. He will be an asset. How is it that the Jedi did not take him for training as a child?"

Case shrugged. "You expect me to know?"

"You are mated with the boy's father, are you not?"

"You're underpaying your spies, Huntak. You think because I warm my bed with a partner that I'm mated to him?" She smiled slowly. "Perhaps you should join me for a night or two and really surprise them."

Huntak laughed in a low tone. "I do not find. . .your kind. . .attractive. But the amusement I would gain almost makes the four days of ritual cleansing I would endure palatable."

Case let out her breath slowly. Huntak was softening up. She might survive this encounter, after all. Dustil hadn't realized how dangerous this phase of their operation truly was. She thought she could probably defeat Huntak if it came to a fight, but success was by no means guaranteed.

"Why have you come, Jedi Revan? You mock us with your Jedi robes and saber."

"I am no Jedi, Huntak."

"You are no Sith, either."

She Force Bursted across the desk and clenched his hand in hers. Surprise flashed across his face. "You can feel the Dark in me, can't you? As well as the Light. I am no one's servant, Huntak." She grinned hard. "I am my own master."

Huntak filled his palm with Lightning. It snapped between their hands, a closed circuit. "You wish to stand alone, Revan. But even the loneliest stone touches the ground."

Revan concentrated and absorbed the Lightning between them. The space between their hands went dark. The Lightning was cold inside of her. "I wish to teach fencing at the Academy. My affiliations are irrelevant."

Huntak nodded. "You are welcome, mercenary. We have lost several instructors of late. See Tamal on the practice grounds. She will assign you a class."

Revan inclined her head in a bow of equals and left the room. Dustil was nowhere to be seen. She shook the surplus Lightning from her hands and made her way to the back of the Academy. She was on her own again, for the first time in a long time. She should be happy about it, excited to make decisions without thinking about others. Why, then, did she feel so terribly afraid?


	6. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

Carth pulled his arms over his head, several vertebrae popping as he stretched. He'd spent the last three days helping replace the temporary infirmary with a permanent building. The plasteel temps that the Republic donated after the attack had served well enough, but with the strong weather on Telos, they really needed something stronger and anchored into the ground. The whole town had moved Dr. Coran's equipment into the new building that afternoon. Some of the kids had drawn smiling pictures of themselves and put them up around the office and waiting area. Coran even got a little teary. It had been a nice reward for everyone's hard work, and the town was getting together for a small celebration in the square that evening.

"Sore muscles, Captain?" a voice behind him asked. Carth turned to see Sulan Valenta in the hallway. He and Mission were staying with the Valentas, as the town still didn't have temporary lodging. Tallen Valenta, Sulan's husband, had been in the Fleet with him, and the two families had been friends. Tallen had died at Malachor V.

Carth smiled. "Flying a spaceship and firing a blaster don't use the same muscles as putting up a building. I guess I'm out of shape."

"A short stay in the colonies will fix that in no time, Captain."

"Just Carth, please, Sulan. We never stood on rank when I lived here." He disliked the hero-worship he'd received from everyone since their arrival.

She smiled, crinkling her eyes. The years of tragedy showed in her face and made her appear older than her thirty-five or so years. "I'll try my best, but I don't think you'll convince Jan to call you anything but 'Captain.' He's always looked up to you. It's been hard on him—on us both—since Tallen died, and then the attack, and now with Jirin—" she trailed off, then clapped her hands together. "But enough. Are you ready for the party? It's all anyone's talked about all week!"

Carth nodded, and they left the house, making for the square. The sounds of music and the crowd grew as they approached. Carth could see Mission, huddled with a group of girls on some benches in the one corner. She saw him and waved, then went back to her conversation. It hadn't taken any time at all for Mission to be embraced by the other young people in Marne. There were less of them than there had been when he had lived here, but they were as boisterous as ever. Mission had joined the group of young people restoring the farmland nearby, and any spare time was absorbed by the loosely organized sports and games of the town. In fact, she hardly had time to say two words to him before she went to her alcove to sleep at night. He was glad she could act her age without worrying about the fate of the universe or blaster bolts flying her way. It was too bad that Dustil couldn't do the same.

He'd received just one heavily encrypted message from Dustil since arriving on Telos two weeks ago. It had been a brief text message only, just word that he and Case were inside the Academy and still safe. There had been two messages from Case, both just requests for acknowledgement of the message, but he had deleted them without reply. He just wasn't ready to talk with her again, especially if they couldn't be face-to-face. In truth, he'd been so busy with his work on Telos that he hadn't had time to think about her much. It was only at night, when he was staring at the ceiling after waking from the nightmare, that he allowed himself to miss her at all.

"You're thinking too hard for a party, Onasi!" Mitch Ando clapped him on the back and shook him out of his thoughts. Mitch had been elected director of Marne each year for the last fifteen years. It had been his steely determination that had kept the town together after the attack, and his drive which had allowed them to rebuild as much as they had since then. The white haired man grinned and shoved a cup of ale in Carth's hand. "Come on, Captain, Sulan won't mind if I borrow you for a while. There's forty people here who haven't gotten to talk to you yet."

Carth groused good-naturedly and allowed himself to be dragged into the crowd. Mitch expertly maneuvered him from group to group, and for the next several hours, Carth discussed the state of the reconstruction, caught up on local politics, grumbled about the bureaucrats on the Senate, and deflected attempts to pry war stories from him. It was all pleasant enough, but he was glad to find a seat away from the central lantern and actually eat something to counteract the ale he'd been drinking all night.

He'd only managed half a bite of fish when he found himself flanked by two bodies sitting down simultaneously on either side. He tensed and instinctively reached for the blaster he wasn't wearing. Three more people sat down, and he realized belatedly that it was only the town Council. Still, it was obvious that they'd planned to corner him, and he didn't like it. He forced himself to relax and took another bite of fish.

"Scare you, Carth?" Mitch asked innocently, and the group laughed.

Carth shook his head ruefully. "You should know better than to surprise a soldier like that. What is this all about? I thought we were having a party."

The person on his right snorted. "You mean you don't know? I thought Fleeters had spies everywhere."

"Dano, control yourself!" Mitch admonished. He explained, "You'll have to forgive Dano—he has a bit of an attitude about the Republic. Thinks they didn't act fast enough to stop this flu that's going around."

"You don't know, Mitch!" Dano shouted. He stood and pointed a shaking finger at the rest of the Council. Carth put down his plate and got ready to break up a fight. Dano continued, "Your wife isn't at home with barely enough breath in her to live! Your baby isn't crying for her mother and starting to cough! Speak that way again and I will shut you up myself!" Just as suddenly as the outburst began, it ended. Dano dropped to his seat and his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't—"

Mitch looked truly apologetic. "No, I'm sorry, Dano. I didn't know that Shani has gotten worse. Who is with her now?"

"Her sister," Dano said dejectedly. "I thought, maybe, if I came, that Captain Onasi might know something, might be able to help us."

Carth looked around at the Council and was humbled by the honest hope he saw in all of their faces. He clasped Dano's shoulder. "I hope I can help, but I'm afraid that I don't know much about this flu. When I arrived at the Republic base, I had to get a vaccine for some kind of problem with the water. Is that what you mean?"

Dano shook his head and stared at the ground, his vehemence seemingly spent in his outburst.

Dr. Coran spoke up. "We don't know what it is. It started about a year ago—several people became ill all of a sudden. It started with the usual cold symptoms—cough, fatigue—but the person gets so ill, so quickly. I couldn't find a cause for their problems. Several of them died." She looked at the ground for a moment, her graying hair orange in the reflected lanternlight. "So I reported it to the Republic base, and they sent over their doctors. They didn't know what it was either. They went away, and more people died. Other towns were having the same problem. Then, one day, the Republic doctors came back and said that it had been the water, and they had a vaccine. Everyone got it, and for a while, no one was sick. But then, two months ago, it started up again."

"The same thing?" Carth asked.

Coran nodded her head. "We can sometimes slow it down, but we can't stop it. Sometimes they recover on their own, but if a fever sets in, we can't do anything else. All told, it takes a week for the person to die, sometimes ten days."

"Ten days? But that makes this a Class-one disease! Telos should be quarantined!" Carth exclaimed. He was glared at all around by the Council. Quarantine would set back Telos' reconstruction by years.

"It would be, Captain, if it were contagious." Coran said dryly.

"It's not contagious? Then what causes it? _Is_ it the water?"

"We don't know. And the Republic doctors haven't been back since they vaccinated all of us. We hoped that you brought some answers with you."

Carth shook his head helplessly. "No, I'm afraid I don't have anything. But I will go to the base in the morning and see what I can find out. I heard at the base that people are being reported missing, though? Is it related?" Maybe he could get some answers from the Council about his investigation.

Mitch shook his head. "It's not related, but it's made all of this even worse. People have been disappearing while they're out working the fields. We never see them again."

"Disappear? No one sees anything?" Carth couldn't keep the skepticism out of his voice. Telos was a fairly provincial place, but even it had vid technology. All the gates were monitored.

Mitch shook his head. "We never see them go. After the first two, we started requiring people to go out in pairs. It didn't matter—one second they were there, the next, gone. And the vids at the gate never report anything. We've lost four people that way, including Jirin Valenta, Sulan's boy. He was the third—Sulan's taken it pretty hard." He cleared his throat. "We all have, to tell you the truth, Carth. People are scared—several families have already left the colony. If we don't get this under control, I'm afraid all of our reconstruction efforts will be for nothing."

Carth couldn't believe what he was hearing. The briefs he'd received had woefully underreported the problem. People dying, people disappearing—it sounded like Sith work to him. "I'll see what I can do," he promised. "Before I go to the base tomorrow, Doctor Coran, I'd like to get more detail from you about how the disease progresses, who has it, that kind of thing. The more patterns we can draw, the better. And Dano," he turned to the man, still staring hopelessly at the ground, "if I can do anything to help your wife, I will. I promise you that."

Dano clasped his hand. "Thank you, Captain. And now I should return to my home. Good evening, all of you." He faded into the darkness outside the lantern circle.

Mitch clapped his hands together. "All of you, we'll meet again at the regular Council session. Go, now, enjoy the party." The group started to dissipate.

Toward the square's center, someone started a lively tune on a draba. A flute joined in. The ale was still flowing, and people started clapping along or dancing with the music. Carth tried to speak over the din. "Mitch, can you tell me more about—"

Sulan swung up to them with two other women, all of them breathless and red-cheeked. "You two have been hiding over here too long! Come dance with us!" she cried.

Mitch laughed and shook his head. "No, lass, I'm too old for that. You'll have to be satisfied with Carth." Sulan grabbed Carth's hand and started to pull him toward the crowd.

"No, I'm really—I should—"

Mitch grinned and saluted. "We'll talk later, Onasi. Good luck!"

With half the crowd laughing and looking their way, Carth had no choice but to be a good sport and dance. He wasn't a particularly good dancer, but he knew the steps from his childhood, and managed not to embarrass himself. Sulan, on the other hand, fairly flew around the square, and one dance turned into three and then five. Finally, the music died down, and they moved to the side. Sulan was out of breath and smiled up at him. Carth caught himself staring and quickly dropped his arms.

"Gee, Carth, I didn't think old guys danced like that!" Mission came up behind them with Jan.

"No, indeed, they don't, Mission," Sulan said knowingly, winking at Carth. "Did you two have fun tonight?"

Jan nodded but said sourly, "I bet no one'll get any work done til noon tomorrow, though. And the hifa has to be tended tomorrow or it's all going to go to seed."

Mission slugged him in the arm. "Don't be such a spoilsport, Jan. I swear, nothing makes you happy. I'll be up and I'll help you with the hifa, okay?"

"I'll have to show you how to do it," he grumbled as the two went back toward the Valenta house. Mission had a sharp retort and the bickering went on ahead of them.

Carth and Sulan followed more slowly behind. Carth began planning his trip to the Republic base in his head. It was already after midnight, but if he left before sunrise, he could be at the base before the daystaff started its shift. Guards were always willing to talk at the end of the nightshift, and maybe he could get some more information about the disappearances. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that Roland Wann knew something about what was going on. After he had the information, he could go—

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his back. He turned in surprise and saw Sulan looking up at him. They were outside of the house. She leaned closer. "We don't have to go inside right away," she said softly.

It took Carth a moment to realize what she meant. "Oh, I, er—" he fumbled.

"I'd forgotten what a kind man you were, Carth. And not a bad dancer, either." The moonlight softened the tight lines around her eyes, and stray hairs fell around her like a halo. In that instant, he saw what could be. He could kiss her out here in the moonlight, and eventually they would marry, have a baby girl together, rebuild their world, grow old together. It would be a happy life. And he could make it happen, just by leaning down—

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sulan. I've given you the wrong impression."

She jerked her hand away as if it had been burned. "Oh. No, I'm sorry. I didn't realize—I thought you—" She laughed mockingly. "You must think me old, and desperate."

"No, it's not that, not at all, it's just—I'm sorry."

"Is it Ana, still?" she asked. "It's been almost five years."

Carth sighed. "No, it's not Ana. It was, for a long time, but I finally found peace for her death. I should—I should go inside."

Sulan stopped him with a hand on his arm. Carth looked at her, and she smiled sadly at him. "You should find her, Carth, or else let her go, whoever she is. You deserve a happy ending." She turned and walked back toward the square.

Carth went inside and found the room he was sharing with Jan. The kid was already sound asleep and snoring in his bed. Carth rolled himself up in the blankets on his cot and pressed his hands hard against his eyes. He'd given up a lot of happy endings. He wasn't sure he had another chance left.

* * *

Case knew she was running out of time. She had been on Korriban for three weeks now and hadn't found anything that would help her understand the threat pulsing inward from the Outer Rim. The need to know, and the knowledge that she _used_ to know, was like a itch she couldn't reach. She _had_ to know what was on Korriban to find.

Case placed her palm flat on the rocky wall before her. She was deep in the ancient part of the Academy, far beyond the student rooms and practice grounds to the caves that were here before the Academy was built. The pulse of the Dark side was strong here—these caves were Dark long before any modern Sith decided to train students here. The wall before her looked the same as every other surface in the dark and dusty hallway, but when she listened with her Force senses, she could hear the small warping of the Force at this location. There was something drawing the Force inward, something right behind her hand.

She backed up to the far wall and took a breath. The wall was solid, that much she knew from her last visit down here. She could Force Push all day and not move the stone. Her only option was to go _through_ the wall. Case had heard stories of the ancient Jedi being able to walk through solid stone, but she had never known a modern Jedi to even attempt it. But she heard the whispers at the Academy from the students. It seemed Revan knew how to walk through walls. And if Revan could do it, that meant Case could.

Case closed her eyes and listened for the hum of the Force around her. She walked slowly toward the wall, trying not to flinch as the rock came closer, and instead hummed through the Force to clear a path before her. She felt a slight brushing, as of cloth, and then nothing. She opened her eyes.

She was inside the room. She couldn't quite keep from grinning, but then the room spun around her and she dropped to her hands and knees. Case's forearms were shaking with the intensity of her exhaustion. She knelt there for several long minutes while she slowly regained her strength. Apparently, walking through walls wasn't something one did on a whim.

She finally regained her composure and tossed a ball of Force Light into the air to illuminate the room.

A lone figure at a table jerked her head up. Case gasped and ignited her saber. "Who are you?" she barked.

The other occupant blinked in her direction for a long moment, then returned to the book in front of her. The girl's blond hair was pulled into a messy ponytail behind her head. Case deactivated her blade. It looked like she had been in this room after, all, a long time ago. She was seeing ghosts of herself again.

"What did you find, Revan? Help me remember," Case whispered, throwing the Force behind her words.

The girl—no, not a girl, she corrected herself. By now, she had already defeated Mandalore-- looked up again, and Case was pleased to see no signs of the Dark in her aura. So she wasn't yet Darth Revan. Revan squinted in her direction. "Are you a ghost?" she asked finally.

Case smiled. This was why she had come to Korriban. "To you, probably," she replied. "You know who I am?"

"We're the same person, aren't we?" Revan asked. She folded her arms on the book before her and leaned across the table. "But there's something different about you, besides your age."

"I go by the name Case, now. But that's a long story and I don't know how much time we have. I know you found something here, but I can't remember what it was."

Revan frowned suspiciously. "I see a lot of ghosts here. Maybe you're not who you say you are. Why should I tell you anything?"

Case sighed and looked around the room. Ancient books were stacked in dusty heaps on stony shelves around the room. A few Sith holocrons stood in formation on the far wall. No doubt they whispered to Revan while she studied. They were probably feeding a paranoia that Case was beginning to suspect had always been there. She reached forward and grabbed Revan's hand. She had to make the girl understand. "I know you're continuing the research that you were doing before you left for the Mandalorian War. I know you told the Council that the Mandalorians were being driven by something else, something Dark. I know you can _feel_ them out there, just like I can. I haven't found them yet, Revan, but I hear them every night. And I'm afraid that I'm running out of time."

Revan stared at her with wide dark eyes for a long moment, then looked at Case's hand clasping hers. She slumped down in her chair and sighed. "I thought I would find them soon. I'm so close. . ."

Who knew what would have happened if Revan hadn't fallen? A thought suddenly occurred to her. What if she didn't have to? What if Case could stop her now? Her words tumbled out of her, "I don't know how it happened, but you lost—I lost my way, and I fell. Maybe that's what _they_, the true Sith, wanted. Whatever it was, however it happened, you have to be careful. Please, don't—"

The girl jerked her hand away like she'd been burned. Her blade, bright yellow, was suddenly between them. "I knew it! You were sent here by the Council, weren't you? You're trying to keep me from my work!"

"No, Revan, I'm not—"

"Quiet, ghost! I'm not weak-minded like the Council! I defeated Mandalore in hand-to-hand combat! I will not be stopped by your lies!" Her eyes were dark holes in her head, and Case saw a lightning strike of red through her aura. Revan stalked away from the table and walked through the wall.

The hand that had been holding Revan's was suddenly cold. Case rubbed it absently, staring at the wall after the girl she had been. Unlike Case, Revan hadn't had to gather her courage to walk through the wall. She had never doubted that she could. But Revan was dead, killed by Bastila's blade and her own overconfidence. Case felt suddenly old.

She walked around the table and sat down in front of the book Revan had been reading. It was ancient, the pages brown and crumbling around the edges, the glyphs fading into the paper. It was in Rakatan, but so old a dialect that Case couldn't puzzle out every word. She had to skim the pages, listening with the Force for a rough translation. Unfortunately, when she listened with the Force, she could hear the Sith holocrons hissing at her from the wall. It was the same sound that haunted her dreams.

Case shook her head fiercely and tried to concentrate on the book. She didn't think that Revan had come back here after their visit, or else the book would not be lying here in the same position that Revan had left it. The answers she sought had to be here.

The book was a history of the conquest of Korriban. The Rakata had come here at some point in the ancient past and driven out or slaughtered the native people. Case flipped back a couple of pages and began an account by Tarmakta, a Rakatan prophet. At this point in the story, Tarmakta was a soldier who had been assigned to lead his army through the caves of Korriban and kill the remaining the natives who were hiding there. The natives could control the Force in ways that the Rakata did not know, and many of Tarmakta's soldiers died. Finally, Tarmakta came to a cave that was too small for his war machines. His remaining soldiers begged him to stay and let them go ahead, but Tarmakta insisted on going alone. He entered into a wide cave containing a circular pool. Tarmakta asked the pool to tell him the destiny of his people, and he received a terrifying vision of plague and war. He returned to the surface and took his soldiers away from the cave. At first, no one believed Tarmakta, but he had gained new Force powers that no one had known before, and so the Ratakan elders sent an expedition to Korriban to find the cave, but no one could find it again. Tarmakta drew a map and even went back himself, but the cave was gone.

Case looked up from the book and frowned thoughtfully at the wall before her, chin in hand. She had been in every cave on Korriban with Carth and Canderous, and had certainly never seen anything like what Tarmakta described. But she knew without a doubt that this was the cave she had seen in her dream of Revan before meeting with the Council on Coruscant. Revan had found this cave, and that meant Case had to find it, too.

She stood and reached her arms to the ceiling. How long had she been sitting at the table? Case glanced at her chrono and was shocked to find that she'd lost half the day in this room. She had missed her fencing class. Case walked toward the wall, and with only a little less trepidation than last time, passed through it.

She was back in the dim corridor. The absence of the hissing holocrons was an unexpected relief. She breathed deeply, trying to shake off the renewed exhaustion from walking through the wall.

"Impressive, Revan," a low voice said from the darkness.

Case forced herself not to jump or clench her saber. "Hello, Huntak," she replied with deliberate casualness.

The tall Twi'lek appeared in front of her. "I have heard rumor of such a power, but I have never witnessed it myself. Truly, greatness walks among us at the Academy."

Case rolled her eyes and kept walking toward the practice grounds. Huntak fell into step beside her. She needed to get out to the grounds behind the Academy and look for the cave, but she would have to wait until she wasn't being watched. Maybe tomorrow, or the night after the fencing trials when the students were celebrating and the instructors kept to their quarters. The feel of _wrongness_ from the Force was increasing, and Case didn't know if it was the threat beyond the Outer Rim or the pressure of the Dark side here at the Academy. She knew she had to find what she was looking for and get off this planet as soon as possible.

"What did the holocrons tell you, Revan?" Huntak asked quietly beside her.

Case glanced sharply at him and then looked determinedly forward. She didn't think he could walk through the wall to the room, so he must have been able to hear her through the stone. How much had he heard? "I've never been one to listen to those holocrons, Huntak. Too many lies to sort through."

The Twi'lek master laughed. "You weren't afraid of the holocrons when you were Lord of the Sith. Or don't you remember meeting with me?"

Case wished she could shake Huntak and go back to her quarters. She couldn't read him and she worried about what he knew. "I met a lot of sentients. You were something of a holocron scholar, weren't you? You weren't the type I would notice."

They finally emerged from the back hallway into the main chamber. Even the dim light in the large room seemed bright compared to the dark corridors. Case angled wide toward her quarters. Huntak grasped her upper arm and leaned in close, his dark lekku nearly touching her face. "I know that you're looking for the next great artifact. You're not the only one looking, Revan. I'm no weak sycophant like Malak was—I will use the power I find with finesse, and I will destroy you. The Sith need leadership and they will find it in me."

Case grinned hard and brought her face even closer to his. "You have no idea how much power I hold," she whispered. "I'd watch your back around here, Huntak. The true threat is always a surprise." She flicked the tip of his lekku with her finger and jerked her arm away from his hand.

She felt his angry eyes on her back all the way back to her chambers.


	7. Chapter 6

**SIX**

_Message deleted unopened by recipient._ The notice flashing on her datapad mocked her. Case stabbed the acknowledge button and flung the pad onto her bunk. She should be relieved that Carth wasn't trying to track her down or repair their relationship. She would be able to leave Korriban when she found what she needed without worrying about him coming after her. But the sight of his rejection still made her stomach clench. He didn't want her anymore, never mind that she had intended exactly that.

Case shook her head at her own thoughts. She had to stop doing this to herself. Case perched on the end of her bunk and tried to clear her mind of all thoughts. She focused on the Jedi Code. There is no emotion. . .but the words seemed to lead her to new thoughts that spiraled into other new thoughts, and soon enough, she was back where she started. She opened her eyes and sighed in frustration. The Jedi Code wasn't helping her meditate. The Light had been increasingly elusive since she had found the book in the secret cave two weeks ago. It was becoming harder and harder to immerse herself in the Force, and its absence was beginning to make her anxious. She pushed down her fear and made her way to the practice ground.

* * *

"Up! Down! Across! No, no, no!" Case flipped the student's lightsaber away from him. It whirled away with a whining hum and clattered to the stone floor of the practice arena. Case sighed dramatically. "Never hold it that far away from your body! It's a weapon. You can't use it if it's way out here! Are you scared of it? Go, pick it up and do the exercises until I tell you to stop."

The student, a Rodian, stared at her, wide-eyed, for just a second before chasing down his weapon and retreating to a corner to practice. They all still expected her to strike them down with lightning. Even the older students, like this one, still cringed away from her when she walked by.

"Why do you allow them to make such mistakes, Revan?" Case managed to keep herself from startling. Huntak could move very quietly when he wanted to surprise her, which he did frequently.

Case twirled her saber and extinguished it. "Huntak, if we kill every student who makes a mistake, we'll quickly run out of students."

"They are weak. The Sith do not need weaklings coddled by their instructors."

"Everyone deserves a second chance, I think."

"But a third? And fourth? That boy will never wield a saber with authority." They looked over at the student, now shadow-fencing with his saber. He was still holding it wrong, his fingertips barely touching the weapon.

"Iman!" Case called. "Come over here."

The Rodian extinguished his saber and trotted over. He blanched when he saw Huntak standing next to Case. "Masters Revan, Huntak, I am at your service." Despite the fear in his large eyes, his voice was steady. Case peered at him—it was so hard to tell how old these Rodians were. She sensed some deception in him, but couldn't quite place it.

"I'm no one's master, Iman, but that is not why I called you over." Case looked sidelong at the headmaster glowering beside her. "Huntak, put up a Force Shield."

"I hope this is worth my time, Revan," he growled, but dutifully put up a Shield. It crackled around him. The other students on the practice grounds stopped what they were doing and looked on.

Case turned back to the Rodian. "Iman, put Master Huntak here into stasis."

Iman stared at her with wide eyes. "Master Revan! I could not dare—"

Case's patience was thin. She ignited her saber and pointed it in his direction. "Do it."

Iman took a deep breath and then flung his hand toward the dark Twi'lek. The Force Shield shattered and Huntak was suddenly frozen, hand still raised to defend himself. Gasps echoed around the room.

Case felt a stab of triumph and. . .was it vindication? from Iman. An interesting reaction that she would have to explore later. "Release him, please, student," she requested.

Iman waved his hand to drop the Stasis and almost faster than thought, Huntak's lightsaber was in his hands and arcing toward the Rodian's neck. Case Bursted her saber upward and stopped the blade centimeters away from Iman. The two blades crackled and sparked against each other in the now-silent chamber. Sweat pricked Case's scalp under her hair as she tried to keep from showing her strain. Huntak was strong and it was all she could do to keep his saber up. Iman finally recognized his danger and scrambled away.

Huntak, bent over, pressing down against his saber, glowered up at her. "You raise your blade against me, woman?" he growled through clenched teeth. They were oddly bright against his dark blue skin.

Case quirked a grin. She extinguished her blade and Boosted herself backward before Huntak's blade could crash down on her. Her weight suddenly gone, he stumbled forward, barely catching himself before he fell.

The room was absolutely silent. Huntak stared at her, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. She could feel the black cloud of anger surround him, but unlike her own, he controlled it, in a sudden burst toward her. She gasped and staggered backward, coldness suddenly surrounding her.

"Mercenary," he growled in Twi'leki. "You sold yourself to the highest bidder, didn't you? First to the Jedi, and now to me. You think you can turn the Academy against me? Against _me_?" She could hardly hear him. "You should go back to your Republic lover and leave the real business of ruling to those with the ability." He paused for a second, then smiled, his teeth disturbingly even. "He has gone, hasn't he?" he asked.

"No." Case held her voice steady.

Huntak raised his blade and circled slowly around her, his boots scuffing loudly on the stone. "Foolish woman, you drove him away. You denied yourself your last chance at redemption, didn't you? No wonder you came here—there's no one to save you now. He hates you, Revan, can't you tell?"

"No," she tried to shout, but her voice was more a strangled squeak.

"Yes, yes, he does hate you. I can feel it in your mind, in your connection to him. He turned away from you when you needed him most, and now he won't acknowledge you at all. _Like you never existed_. He carried the memory of his dead wife like a cloak for four years. How long did it take for him to wipe you away? Only a week? A day? An hour? Feel his hatred, grow strong from it." His voice was full of Persuasion.

"No!" She leapt at him, their lightsabers crashing together. She swung her blade back and forth, around his blade, always keeping him moving backward. She would defeat him, she would destroy him, she would—"

_What are you doing?_ Her thoughts finally reached the arms attacking Huntak. Abruptly, she extinguished her blade. Huntak stood before her, his grey saber held up defensively before him. He looked—frightened, almost. He covered it a second later with a slow grin. He clapped. "Very nice, Revan, very nice. The best blade work I've seen in years."

Case realized she was dripping in sweat and panting like she'd sprinted two klicks. How long had they been fighting? What had happened to her? She'd almost let him taunt her to the Dark side—her own thoughts, thrown back against her.

Case forced herself to clip her blade to her belt calmly and bow. "You are truly an honor to battle, Master Huntak," she said. "Your command of the Force is impressive." Slowly, the silent crowd of students began applauding. Other students joined in, and soon the room echoed with their approval. Case waved and made for the door. She could feel Huntak's laughter behind her. The students thought it had been a spectacular demonstration, but she knew what had actually happened.

Huntak had almost dragged her down to the Dark Side. She had almost fallen—over what? Over her petty jealousy and hurt feelings? She was stronger than that!

Case practically ran the rest of the way to her quarters. Unlike the student rooms, hers had a door and a lock. She fell inside and locked the door behind her. She closed her eyes—it didn't matter that she had closed the door. The Dark Side was everywhere in this forsaken place: hiding in the cracks between the rocks, permeating the air, filling her soul with the breathy promise of power. A sob escaped from between clenched teeth. Case buried her head in her arms.

"Well? Report you have found!" a voice in her room barked. Case glanced up and saw her younger self again before her. The girl wasn't nearly as substantial as she had been in the secret room. She looked harder, her face starkly pale against her light hair. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, her fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on her arm. Revan was addressing someone else and didn't seem to see Case.

Case couldn't see the other person, but Revan was looking up. The sentient was tall. Whatever he or she was telling Revan obviously pleased the girl, because she smiled widely. "Past the archaeological digs? Are you sure they spoke the truth?"

The girl swept past her invisible companion. "Only one map left," she called behind her, and disappeared from view.

Case rubbed her eyes. The cold, gray stone of her sparse quarters reminded her of a tomb. Her dreams were becoming more and more real, and more difficult to shake when she woke. And the ghosts—she could almost see her younger self falling to the Dark side before her, and there was nothing she could do about. And she couldn't find the damn cave, the cave that had the answers that would let her leave this terrible planet. She could feel the wrongness in the place swirling around her, tempting her with easier paths. The Sith Code was right there, just outside of her mind. Reciting it had given her a burst of clear-headedness the last time she was here. She had been faking her adherence to it, of course, but the power of the words was such that her subterfuge had not mattered. She could do it again, not meaning it, but just using its power to help her on her mission for the Jedi. Maybe she could reach Revan with it, find the cave. It would be far easier than trying to reach the Jedi center of calm in this place. She just had to start. . .

_No._ She wrenched her mind away from those thoughts. That was a path which could only lead to the Dark Side. She shuddered to think how close she was, how easy it was to take the easier path. Case knew she had to do something soon to protect herself from the awful power of Korriban. She couldn't let the Dark overpower the Light, but the Light was getting harder to find. What if she lost it? What if she could never find it again? What if there was only the Dark to take her back? Within her mounting panic, Case had a moment of clarity. If she couldn't embrace the Light, then at least she could keep the Dark from embracing her. That was it. That was how she would protect herself.

Case closed her eyes and concentrated on weaving the Force around her. She wrapped it around, over, above, criss-crossing the lines of power into a hedge that kept her protected. Nothing could reach her while she was inside the hedge. She wrapped it tighter and tighter, thicker and thicker, until the pounding of the Dark at her ears ceased. She opened her eyes and took a breath. It was a little frightening that she couldn't feel the Light, either, but at least the creeping sense of dread was gone. The Dark was at bay, and if she had to keep the Light out to do it, then so be it.

Case felt a smile on her lips for the first time since before she left Coruscant. The Force, normally a hum around her, was silent. It was shocking and a little frightening, but at least she was finally safe. She left her chambers in the direction Revan had been walking. Perhaps she had found the cave while looking for the Starmap. She had to try.

* * *

Revan waved to the crowd like some kind of holovid star and left the practice grounds. Master Huntak stared after her for a long moment before sweeping out in the opposite direction. Dustil had seen the look on Revan's face and recognized it as the same kind of blind anger he'd felt when he'd fought her in this same place. She covered it well with her crowd-pandering, but Dustil knew she'd almost lost control. She would have killed Master Huntak in another moment. He slowly released his death-grip on his saber and felt the blood rush back to his fingers. He had been ready to jump in. To stop her or help her? He wasn't sure. 

"She's a helluva fencer!" someone exclaimed behind him, and the room was suddenly back to normal, crowd sounds and practice duels swirling around him.

"Is she really the Dark Lord like they say?" a female student asked.

Dustil turned, finally, and saw who was speaking. It was Melan and Torvim, two students widely known to be matched. Dustil had seen Torvim Choke a Novice into unconsciousness for getting too friendly with Melan at the Czerka bar. Dustil didn't particularly care for either of them—Melan was pretty but sneaky as hell and Torvim had all the Force control of a bantha in heat. He was about to leave when Torvim waved him over.

"Hey, Dustil, haven't seen you around in a while. Whatcha been up to?"

Dustil resisted the urge to make a smartass comment. "You know, fencing, fighting, gaining prestige. That's all we do on this backwater rock."

Melan's smile reminded him of a pellcat playing with its prey. "Not cosmopolitan like Telos, right?" She was trying to goad him into talking about his time on Coruscant, he knew. Uncommon knowledge had always been a guaranteed route to increasing prestige.

Dustil shrugged and pretended he didn't know what she meant. "Well, at least there's work to be done on Telos. Since Revan and her minions took the loot out of the caves, there isn't even any archaeology to do here."

Torvim looked sidelong at Melan in what was probably supposed to a covert glance. Melan rolled her eyes. "Fine, tell him," she sighed.

He grinned conspiratorially and looked around exaggeratedly. Dustil fought the urge to roll his own eyes—anyone looking their way would know that they were up to something. Fortunately, those still in the room after Revan's performance seemed to be concentrating on their practice duels. Torvim whispered, "We found a new cave."

Dustil's eyebrows raised. This was the kind of information the Council wanted him to find out. "Really? Anything good inside?"

Torvim grinned. "Well, that's what we were about to find out. But we need some help to do it. You're supposed to be pretty good with your blade, right?"

Dustil shrugged. "I'm all right." Wouldn't do to look too interested in their little scheme. "What's in it for me?"

Melan leaned in and wrapped her arm around Torvim's waist. She smiled seductively. "Torvim and I would share whatever we found, of course. If you're as good as you looked against Revan a few weeks ago."

"Well, then what are we waiting for? There's no class scheduled til tomorrow—we have plenty of time to see what's in the cave." Dustil didn't want to lose this chance—if Revan heard about it, she might try to stop him or do it herself. If there was something to be found worth showing to the Council, _he_ wanted to be the one to do it, not Revan.

"We're waiting for one more," Melan said, looking around the room. "Ah, here he comes."

Dustil looked up and nearly dropped his saber. The Rodian who'd just tangled with Master Huntak was heading their way.

"_Him_?" Torvim exclaimed. "You didn't tell me that's who you wanted! Do you want to get us all sent to the punishment chambers? Iman can hardly hold his blade!"

Melan laughed. "You saw him wield a stasis field. And it's not like you or Dustil here can put a crawler into Stasis. You don't think that would be useful in a cave?" There was an edge to her voice to which Torvim was apparently oblivious. _So,_ Dustil noted, _Melan doesn't like to be contradicted. Interesting._

Iman came up to them, looking around nervously. "What is it you want?" he asked in accented Basic. "I must return to lightsaber practice. I am to be evaluated in two days, and I must not fail. Nine months without a fencing credit will be too long, I think."

Torvim rolled his eyes. "Haven't you noticed? There's only, what, ten instructors here? And they're leaving all the time. I heard they were going to start replacing classes with computer tutorials. No one is going to notice that you don't have a fencing credit."

Dustil looked at Iman a little closer. Nine months was how long Kaltona said her husband had been inside. It was hard to tell how old Iman was. In truth, Dustil had not done anything to check on Rodians at the Academy—he'd actually been avoiding the Drunk Side so he wouldn't have to deal with Kaltona. If Iman came with them, Dustil might be able to find out if this Rodian was the one in question.

Melan explained about the cave. "So, Iman, we could really use your talents with a stasis field. I've never seen anyone better here. Will you come?"

Dustil, concentrating his Force senses on Iman, felt a slight surge of triumph. But was it because he had earned the acceptance of his peers or because he, too, was looking for the new Sith artifact?

Iman nodded slowly, displaying a reluctance which did not match his aura. "I suppose I can practice tomorrow. I will come with you."

Torvim clapped the slight Rodian hard on the shoulder, almost sending him into Dustil. "Great!" he exclaimed. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"


	8. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

The Republic base was a smudge on the horizon in the lightening sky. Carth drained the last of his caffa from the thermomug and prepared to land the speeder. He'd left well before dawn and made good time across the darkened plains.

A message flashed across his screen: _Separatist Threat Level Increased. Yellow Alert Status. Unaccompanied Aircraft May Be Targets. _Carth smiled. If his instincts were right, he'd run into the separatists again before returning to Marne. He was starting to put things together—Wann's odd behavior when he arrived at the base, the equally odd handling of the separatist who killed herself on his way to Marne, and now news of a new virus and disappearances. All things that would make a man think about relocating his family to a safer planet.

A young man in Republic colors waved him into a spot in the speeder bay. Carth jumped down and was immediately accosted by the young officer. "Captain Onasi?" he asked eagerly.

"Er. . .yes," he ventured. "That's me." He hoped Wann didn't have advance notice of his visit.

The young man saluted. "Ensign Nolander Restoog, sir! How can I assist you?"

"At ease, Ensign. Are you on duty this shift?"

Restoog relaxed a millimeter. "Yes, sir, the night shift, sir. It's a pleasure, sir."

Carth had to grin at that. "The night shift at a middle-of-nowhere base on a middle-of-nowhere planet? You don't have to pretend with me, Ensign. I used to live here, I know what it's like."

"Yes, sir, I'm also Telosian, sir. I requested this assignment specifically, sir."

"What settlement?" Maybe the kid knew more about the virus and disappearings.

"I'm from Tar Menak, sir." Restoog's expression darkened. "Or was."

"What do you mean, was?" Carth asked in surprise. Tar Menak was the biggest settlement on the planet. It was as much of a capital city as Telos had.

"Didn't they tell you when you arrived? All of the settlements except Marne have been abandoned."

Carth felt like the kid had kicked him in the gut. If that was true, then the Fleet's intelligence on the planetary poltics was woefully out of date--he'd thought Telos was recovering from the attack. He crossed his arms hard across his chest. "Why?" he growled.

Restoog swallowed hard. "Uh, well, the virus, sir. Last year. And then the attacks from the separatists. They burned all of the hifa at the last harvest and we didn't have enough to export. The Republic Diplomacy Corps visited us and offered everyone 50 square klicks on Tavin VI. I think just about everyone took it. It was just getting too hard to earn a living. Marne is the only settlement that turned down the offer."

"What do you know about the vaccine that they gave everyone?"

"I don't really know anything, sir. It was very high tech—they shipped it in from Coruscant. I heard they could track each dose to the person it was given to." Restoog remembered his job and straightened back to attention. "May I escort you somewhere, sir?"

Carth wasn't ready to talk to Wann yet. He needed more information about the vaccine. "Just tell me how to get to the central base terminal. Fleet business."

"Certainly, sir." Restoog pointed toward the hanger exit. "Take two lefts and the terminal room will be on your right. If you need anything, sir, just buzz me on the comm."

"Thanks." Carth started toward the exit.

"Sir?" He stopped midstep turned back toward the Ensign. "When Tar Menak pulled out, I decided to join the Fleet. You probably don't remember, sir, but my sister and I were staying with my grandmother in Marne when the Sith attacked. My family hid in a bunker but it was buried in rubble and we couldn't get out. We thought we were going to die. You were the one who opened the hatch and got us out. That's why I joined the Fleet--to help people like you helped us."

Carth didn't remember. Those days were just a blur of stim-induced activity. He'd saved more people than he could count, but he'd lost the important ones. He saluted the young man. "Safe flying, Ensign." Restoog returned the salute. Carth continued on his way.

Restoog's directions were accurate, and Carth was soon in a room dominated by a computer terminal. He frowned at the big piece of equipment, then took a breath and logged on with his Fleet username. He used to be better at slicing, but he'd stopped having time to learn all the codes once he was promoted to Captain. He'd have to hope that his security clearance was high enough to find something without triggering intruder alarms.

Carth dug through menus and bypassed several opportunities to gas the place and send the security droids on murderous rampages. He finally reached the bottom of the operations menu and found only a single option:

RESTORATION PROJECT

He clicked on it and the next menu appeared:

POPULATION CENSUS

TERMS

ACTIVATE PROJECT

Carth clicked on the POPULATION CENSUS option and the screen was replaced by a string of names that went for several hundred pages.

AAROWARI, DENTON, TAR MENAK, DECEASED

AAROWARI, HALLA, TAR MENAK, EMIGRATED

ABAGAN, POLYANAN, COLTE, EMIGRATED

ABB, TOMAS, MARNE, 420-99471

ABBIVAN, BRAVIGAN, DOL KEVAL, DECEASED

ACTO, MELL, MARNE, DECEASED

ACTO, TERNAS, MARNE, 420-98973

Carth remembered the cheerful blonde in Wann's office. "_Okay, the 420 strain, then._" He scrolled down in the menu.

ONARK, STEPHAT, DOL KEVAL, EMIGRATED

ONASI, CARTH, MARNE, 420-99722

ONASI, DUSTIL, MARNE, STATUS UNKNOWN

ONASI, MORGANA, MARNE, DECEASED

Suddenly suspicious of what was going on, he scrolled near the bottom of the menu.

VALENTA, JAN, MARNE, 420-98804

VALENTA, JIRIN, MARNE, STATUS UNKNOWN

VALENTA, SULAN, MARNE, 420-98805

VALENTA, TALLEN, MARNE, DECEASED

VAO, MISSION, TEMP. VISITOR, 450 (PLACEBO)

Carth glanced behind him, looking from the corners of his eyes for the vid cameras that he knew had to be there. He didn't have much time. It was clear that the vaccine he'd been given was also given to everyone who stayed on the planet, most of whom were from Marne. And it appeared that the vaccine was specifically targeted to each person. So-called "temporary visitors" like Mission hadn't received vaccines. Why? Because they weren't going to stay on the planet. Carth backed out to the root menu and tried TERMS:

ITHORIAN AGREEMENT

REPUBLIC AGREEMENT

TAVIN VI AGREEMENT

Carth quickly called up the ITHORIAN AGREEMENT, but it was written in dense legalese and he didn't really understand what was being bargained for. It seemed to be saying that the Ithorians were to take guardianship of the planet, but he couldn't tell when or for how long. He backed out to the root menu again and tried the final option, ACTIVATE PROJECT:

PASSCODE REQUIRED

If Mission had been with him, she might have been able to crack the passcode, but Carth knew he didn't stand a chance. He tried to abort without success. After the third try, the screen went blue and white text appeared:

ACCESS DENIED. CONTACT SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR.

"Is there something with which I can help, Captain?" a voice behind him asked.

Carth was surprised to see not Wann, but an Ithorian standing in the doorway of the terminal room. "That was fast," he remarked mildly.

The big alien nodded its head widely. "You must have known that you would be watched here. We have watched you and your Twi'lek herdling since you arrived."

"Tell me what's going on," Carth asked. Ithorians rarely left their homeworld, and when they did, it was usually for large-scale projects with ecosystems. Telos would qualify.

The Ithorian hummed. "We are not the enemy of your planet, Captain. We mourned the loss of your biosphere."

"Why has everyone left? What's causing the virus?"

"The planet is ill, Captain. Marne is not representative of the planet."

"But what are you doing now?" He waved a hand at the computer. "What is this project?"

"I am not at liberty to say. Your Diplomacy Corps is still the Herd Leader."

Carth shook his head roughly. "I don't like getting jerked around by Wann, or you. You can tell Wann that the Fleet will hear about this. I'm not going to lose Telos again." He shoved past the alien and started toward the speeder bay. It was clear he needed more information, and he wasn't going to get that here.

"It is not our home, but we care for Telos as well, Captain. I cannot give you information, but I will try to help you and the herdling when I can." Carth stopped and looked back toward the terminal room, but the alien was already loping away.

The morning was already well gone by the time Carth got his speeder out of the base and back on the plains. He mulled over what he had learned. It was hard to believe that Marne was the only settlement left, but the kid had no reason to lie. If Marne had refused to leave even after the virus and the kidnappings by the separatists, what else would make them leave? If the Ithorian was right and Diplomacy was in charge, they wouldn't just take back the land from the settlers—the media coverage would be terrible. No, it was far better for Diplomacy if everyone voluntarily left the planet. What he didn't know is what the Ithorians were going to do and why they needed an empty planet to do it. Whatever it was, he had a bad feeling about it.

The proximity klaxon sounded. Carth jerked himself out of his thoughts to see a wedge of speeders approaching him from the low rise ahead. The separatists were right on time. The difficult part was going to be finding out what they knew without ending up on the wrong end of a restaining collar. He pulled his blasters and checked his surroundings warily. Three more speeders came up behind him and one shadowed him from overhead. He was surrounded.

His comm crackled to life. "We don't want to hurt you. Set the speeder down."

Carth reached for the comm to send a message back to the base but his attackers spoke first.

"We're watching the Twi'lek girl. You don't want to send a message to anyone."

Carth clenched his fist hard but pulled back from the comm. He jerked the speeder to a halt and set it down roughly on the ground. Before anyone could approach him, he leapt out of the seat and stood on the tail section, blasters out and ready. He was outnumbered, but he wasn't going down without a fight.

To his surprise, only one of the separatists exited the speeder, a young Zabrak with a mechanical arm. He held his hands up in a show of peace. He was weaponless but appeared to be holding a datapad. "Captain, we're not going to hurt you," the Zabrak called.

Carth didn't lower his blasters. "Could've fooled me," he said with a hard grin.

The Zabrak approached slowly. He held the datapad in front of him. "You need to see this, Captain. We need the Fleet to get us off this planet."

"You needed ten speeders to give me a datapad?" Carth asked incredulously.

The Zabrak placed it on the nose of Carth's speeder and backed away slowly. "Only half a message, I'm afraid. The other half will be waiting for you when you arrive at Marne."

"Wait!" Carth called. "What do you know about the vaccine? And the disappearances?"

"There's no time. Read the datapad, then get the message back at Marne. We need your help."

As soon as the Zabrak got back to his speeder, the others rose and took off in all directions. Carth let out a breath and slowly reholstered his blasters. He retrieved the datapad and dropped back into the cockpit of the speeder. He called up the message.

CONNECTING TO MAIN TERMINAL. . .

CONNECTED

The datapad displayed a screen that looked like what he had seen on the terminal at the Republic base. Before he could select an option, it automatically selected ACTIVATE PROJECT

The screen changed to the familiar ENTER PASSCODE. The program automatically entered a string of characters and the program displayed the next screen.

ENTER STRAIN NUMBER

The cursor blinked for several long moments, then entered 420 into the box.

ENTER DOSE NUMBER

After another long pause, 99722 appeared in the field.

DEACTIVATED

Carth rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. That was the number attached to his vaccine.

He looked back at the datapad, which now displayed a new message.

DISCONNECTING FROM MAIN TERMINAL. . .

DISCONNECTED

THIS WAS A LIVE RECORDING FROM THE BASE COMPUTER, CAPTAIN.

ONLY WANN CAN ACCESS THE ACTIVATION SCREENS. IF YOUR VACCINE

CAN BE DEACTIVATED, THEY ALL CAN BE.

WHO SOLD TELOS?

END OF PART ONE

TRANSMISSION TERMINATING. . .

TERMINATED

The screen went black. Carth tapped the entry keys, but they had no effect. The datapad had obviously been programmed for the one message and nothing else. Carth started up his speeder and pushed the throttle as far as it could go. He needed to see what was waiting for him at Marne.

* * *

It was only an hour after daybreak when Mission got up, but Jan was already sitting at the kitchen table, drinking caffa. Mission had snuck a couple of ales at the party, and she badly wanted a cup herself. Before she could even get it, though, he pointed at a datapad on the table. "Captain Onasi left that for you. He said he'd be back after sunset."

"For me?" She picked it up and flipped it on.

_Happy Life Day, Mission! _she read. _This will make you a local in no time. –Carth_

"Well?" Jan asked urgently. "I've been waiting an hour for you to get up and open it! What is it?"

She grinned and got herself a cup of caffa. She didn't know how Carth even knew it was her life day. He must have looked it up in a database somewhere. "It's a weather calculator! It'll let me figure out the patterns all over the planet. Isn't that cool?"

Jan nodded. "Useful, I guess. We have pretty strong weather on Telos. Everybody's obsessed with the weather around here. But why'd he give it to you now?"

"It's my life day."

"Oh, yeah? How old are you today?"

"Fifteen," she replied, self-satisfied. She was halfway to twenty, now. Pretty soon nobody would mistake her for a kid.

"Well, I'm still older than you, and that means I get to tell you what to do. So finish your caffa and let's get out to the field before it gets too hot."

Mission suppressed a retort and stuck the calculator in her pocket. "Fine, let's go."

They took scooters out to the edge of the field, which looked to Mission like the ocean she'd seen on Manaan. The pink, feathery stalks waved back and forth in the breeze and made a quiet swishing noise. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

Jan shrugged. "Yeah, it's okay, I guess. Wait til you've spent three hours hulling and you might change your mind. Now, here's what you do." He took a stalk of hifa and showed her the feathery end. "See here, where this papery part starts? You've got to scrape that off so the seed can germinate."

"Okay, that doesn't look too hard. Gimme that knife."

Three hours later, Mission hadn't changed her mind about the beauty of the field as a whole, but she was mightily tired of the plants as individuals. Her thumb was blistered where the knife rubbed against it, and she had chaff all over her, down her shirt and in her boots, too. And she'd hardly managed to get through five plants! How were they ever going to get through one row, not to mention the whole field?

"You're a pretty good worker for a city girl," Jan remarked as he hefted a barrel of hifa chaff over Mission's head.

Mission rolled her eyes. "Yeah? Well, you're a pretty good thinker for a dewback. You must be their leader." She yanked the thin outer shell of the hifa leaf off the pinkish plant. Jan couldn't go two seconds without showing how superior he was to her. Do it this way, Mission. You're doing it wrong, Mission. No, try this, Mission. If there had been anyone else in the field with them, she'd have ditched hours ago. But, true to his pessimistic prediction, they were the only two working.

To her surprise, Jan laughed at her rude comment. "That's a good one, Mission. You're quick with comebacks, huh?"

She glanced at him warily, not sure whether he was still making fun of her. "Yeah, well, it helps when you're always the youngest."

Jan nodded and started in on the row next to her. The waist-high plants waved gently in the breeze between them. "I was usually the youngest in my group, too. Well, me and Jirin, that is. But most of the kids my age either died in the attack or were taken by the Sith, so now I'm one of the oldest. You'd be surprised what they let a sixteen-year-old do when there's no one else around to do it." He pulled his blade down the stalk expertly and stripped off the shell in one pass.

"Why didn't they get you?" Mission asked.

Jan didn't look up. She could see red creeping up his neck. "I hid. Jirin, too. We ran inside the school when the attack started, and our mom found an entrance to the storm shelter. We all went down there and stayed for two days. A couple other people found it, too. We came out when we ran out of water, and everything was—well, you know. Like this." He gestured to the barren landscape beyond the fields. "The Sith were still picking up a few people, but they were mostly gone. My dad's dead, and my mom wasn't anybody important, so they didn't care about us. Then the Fleet showed up and the Sith left quick."

"I guess you're lucky, then."

He shrugged. "I guess so. I was gonna join the Fleet after I finish school, but now I guess I can't."

"Why?" Mission stopped tending the hifa, surprised at the resignation in Jan's voice.

"Because," he glared at her. "You think I'm going to just leave now? Everyone here is an old man or a baby! Who's gonna tend the fields and catch the fish and put up new buildings if everyone leaves? Maybe you can just walk away after your planet is destroyed, but I can't!"

Mission pointed a finger at him. "Hey! You don't know nothin' about me! At least you have a home—there's nothing left to rebuild on Taris!" To her horror, tears filled her eyes. She swiped at them with her shoulder.

Jan held out his hand but she jerked away. "Mission," he started, "Mission, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I know you couldn't go back there—I saw the pictures on the newsvid. I shouldn't have said that. It's just—it's just hard to be the responsible one all the time. It was better, before, but now that Jirin's missing—" he trailed off.

"I thought he was, well, you know—" she said. She sniffed hard a couple of times and went back to stripping the hifa and let the rhythm of the work distract her.

"Dead?" Jan shook his head. "No, he's not dead. I would have felt him die. Everyone gave up too quickly, my mother included. I know he's out there somewhere."

Mission wasn't sure how to react. "But how could you—are you Force sensitive?"

"No, it's just because we're twins, I guess. I just turned around one day and knew that he was gone. But I can still feel him, a little. He's not gone completely, and that's how I know he's not dead." He looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed but dry. "I still miss him a lot. I don't know if he's coming back."

"Yeah, I miss a lot of people from Taris. It wasn't the best place to live, but it was the only place I knew, until Carth and Case showed up and I went with them."

Jan brightened a little. "That must have pretty exciting, huh? Going to all those planets and fighting the Sith? I saw the newsvid commentators talking about it after you got back."

Mission shrugged. "It was cool, but I didn't get to do much, honestly. Like on Korriban, they didn't even let me get off the ship." She grinned. "I snuck out a couple times, of course, but I didn't get to do any fighting there."

"Is it true that Dustil Onasi is a Sith?"

Mission hesitated. After that episode at the Enclave, she wasn't so sure. But she couldn't tell his friends that. "No, he was at the Academy, but Case and Carth convinced him to leave. The Sith tricked him."

Jan moved on to the next plant, and Mission hastened to catch up. "I can't believe he'd even join the Academy," Jan said. "I mean, his dad is a big hero and everything. He was the one who came and told us that my dad had been killed in the Mandalorian War. Captain Onasi said that my dad had saved his life a bunch of times and he was real sorry that he couldn't return the favor this time. I mean, if my dad was alive, I sure wouldn't betray him like that." Jan rushed on before Mission could say anything. "I guess they must have brainwashed him or something when they took him, right?" He looked at her, the question in his eyes.

"Yeah, that must have been it," she said finally. She wasn't going to burst Jan's bubble. He was still kind of a stuck-up jerk, but he hadn't gotten to have all the adventures that she did. She guessed he wasn't so bad once you got to know him. She finally finished her plant and moved on to the next one. The leaves gave off a nice peppery smell when they were stripped.

They had been working silently beside each other for another hour when a low rumble caught her attention. "What's that noise?" she asked, craning her neck to look around.

"Oh, that's just, er—"

On the other side of the field, she saw a group of people setting up a droid for each row. The droids activated and rumbled along the aisles, appendages stripping the hifa as they went. It took the droids two minutes what had taken them half a day to do.

"What the heck?" she exclaimed. "Why didn't we get droids?"

Jan was beet red from his ears to his collar "Well, I, er, I kind of just wanted to talk to you for a while."

"What?" Mission flung her primitive scraping tool to the ground. "I've been out here working my tail off for five hours so you could get a little action?"

"No, no, I just—I come out here and tend the hifa sometimes, when I need to think. I just thought you might like it—"

"You jerk!" Mission dove across the row and tackled him. She pummeled him in the chest until he started shaking. She stopped, afraid she'd hurt him, but she saw that he was only laughing. He was practically convulsing as tears ran down the sides of his head.

He pointed a shaking finger at her. "You—you thought we tended the crops by hand?" He could hardly get his words out. "Wait—wait—maybe we can find two sticks and rub them together to make fire!" He collapsed into laughter again.

Mission looked at him for a minute and started laughing, too. It _was_ pretty funny. Mission rolled off him. "Come on, you idiot. Let's get out of here before the droids run us over."

Jan hauled himself to his feet, dust and chaff covering his clothes. He grinned at her. "If we go back to town now, we'll have to listen to Director Ando's weekly lecture on responsibility and hard work. It's very uplifting and seriously boring."

"You got a better idea?"

"I know a good place to go where they won't look for us for a while. I used to camp out there a lot when I was a kid. It's about half a klick from here." He pointed west toward a small outcropping of rocks. "You up for a walk?"

"Last one there's a dewback!" she shouted and took off for the rocks.

"Hey! No fair!" Jan yelled behind her.

She heard him approaching and turned up her speed. She leapt through the hifa and narrowly missed a harvest droid. She beat him by two steps to the rock formation and threw herself to the ground, breathless. "Ha! You're a dewback! You're a dewback!"

Jan bent over at the waist, puffing. "Cheater. Can't we just play Pazaak next time?"

She smirked. She'd clean this colonial boy out in no time. She put all the innocence she could into her voice. "Ooh! Pazaak! I just bought a beginner's deck yesterday! Can you teach me to play?"

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

Two hours later, he was staring at a side deck stripped of all its good cards. "I thought you said you couldn't play!" he said, bewildered.

"Beginner's luck, I guess," she replied. Maybe now he wouldn't be such a know-it-all.

"I guess." He sounded doubtful. "I have another deck at home. We could try again—what's that noise?"

A buzzing sound was coming from her pocket. "Oh, hey, it's me." She pulled out her new weather calculator and flipped it on. The display was flashing a warning for severe weather. She handed it up to Jan. "You ever been in a tornado?"

"A what?" He yanked the calculator away and fiddled with the display. He turned around and back toward town, where an ominous pile of black clouds were gathering. Lightning crept between the clouds and gave them an eerie green glow. "The storm is about five klicks away and moving fast! We should have paid more attention to the weather."

"Can't we just get next to these rocks? What's a little rain and wind?" Mission asked.

He stared at her like she'd turned into a gizka. "Are you crazy? A tornado isn't just a little storm—we'd be killed! We've got to get back to town right now!"

Mission took her calculator back from him. "Well, how are we going to do that?" she asked reasonably. "The storm is coming from that direction, and our scooters are still out in the field. We'll never make it back in time." She looked around. "Is there somewhere we can hide here?" The rock formation behind her made a semicircle around a small lake. The largest rock overlapped a smaller one. She pointed to it. "What about that? Is that a cave?"

Jan looked where she was pointing. "It's more like a big hole. It drops down three meters and then extends back a ways. We used to play space pirates there when we were kids." He looked back toward the clouds moving rapidly their way. The wind had started to kick up, swirling the brush around the lake. He put down his hand and hauled Mission to her feet. "It's pretty tight, but it'll work."

They ran over to the cave. Mission ducked her head in. "Ew, there's crawlers in there." She heard the wind howling behind her and could practically feel the tension coming off of Jan. She'd never seen a tornado, but she guessed it wasn't anything to sneeze at. "Okay, okay." She sat down on the edge of the hole and dropped down. She tried not to think about the things that crunched under her feet. She opened her datapad and the display gave off a little light. The cave extended back about two meters, and she could see evidence of old campfires, spice packets, and ale bottles. She backed up a bit to allow Jan room to come down.

He landed next to her with a thud. "Go back against that wall, away from the opening."

The end of the cave was hardly big enough for the two of them, and the gray light from the hole didn't begin to illuminate it. Mission found herself practically on Jan's lap. "Don't even think about it, buddy," she warned.

She could hear the grin in his voice. "Me? Take advantage of the situation? What kind of a—" He stopped speaking abruptly.

"What is—" Jan clamped his hand over Mission's mouth.

"Shh!" He whispered. "Someone's coming."

Mission could hear voices approaching over the high pitched wail of the wind. "Here! We can take cover in this hole," a male voice said.

A male figure dropped down and put up his hands to lift a female figure down. Mission leaned forward, ready to announce their presence. She didn't want them to get the wrong idea about she and Jan here in this hole.

"Well, you picked a fine time for this meeting, Wann," the female said acerbically.

Mission froze. What was Roland Wann from the Republic base doing here?

"Look, it's not my fault that your planet has worse weather than Hoth. We could have met in your office, Doctor. And I thought you'd appreciate knowing that Onasi was poking around the base this morning, trying to find out about your missing colonists."

Mission felt Jan stiffen in surprise behind her. He whispered in her ear, "That's Doctor Coran!" The wind was so loud now near the opening that Mission could hardly hear Wann and the doctor. She activated her stealth generator and pushed back hard against Jan, hoping that her stealth field would cover them both. As long as they didn't come back all the way—

"Did he find anything out?"

"I don't think so. None of the people he was spoke to knew anything. He asked a Fleet kid a few tough questions about the vaccine and got to the population census, but I'm sure he couldn't tell that the vaccines can be deactivated at our discretion."

Mission felt a slow creeping horror. Why would someone deactivate a vaccine? Everyone in the town had gotten it, and so had she.

Coran spoke again. "I think the storm is passing by. I'm needed back at the town in case there were any injuries. The hifa crew was out this morning, and I think that Twi'lek girl and the Valenta twin were out with them. How are we going to keep Onasi from finding out things that are none of Fleet's business?"

"Don't worry about that. I've taken care of it."

Mission couldn't quite stifle her gasp.

"You didn't do anything overt, did you?" Coran sounded alarmed. "We'll have the Admiralty on top of us if anything suspicious happens to him. It's bad enough that those separatists attacked on his way to Marne—"

"It's none of your concern, Doctor," Wann snapped. "If you'd done your job and convinced Mitch Ando to go along with the rest of the planet and take the Tavin VI deal, we wouldn't be in this situation. But Fleet was suspicious enough to send its favorite officer, and now I've had to deal with it. I've. . . accelerated our plans. Onasi was first, but the others will follow within a week. Can you get everything prepared here?"

"That should be enough time. Our mission is too important to let Fleet ruin things for us." She looked up at the hole. "Has the storm gone?"

Wann looked at a datapad. "It's gone by and broken up. Here, I'll give you a boost, then you drop down a cord for me." Coran stepped on his cupped hands and pulled herself out. Mission was a little surprised at how spry the woman was for her age. A few moments later, long enough for Mission to worry that they'd be stuck in the hole with Wann, a thin cord ladder dropped in and Wann climbed up with effort.

Mission didn't move until she heard both speeders start up and move away. She ran up to the hole and looked out, ignoring the cold rain falling on her face. "We've got to get back and warn everyone, Jan!" she cried.

Jan came forward, looking confused. "Where are you?"

"Oh." She turned her stealth generator off. "Here."

"How did you do that?" he asked. "That's cool!"

"That's not important now! We've got to get back to town! We've got to stop them!"

"Stop them how, Mission? Stop them from what? We don't know anything!"

"Stop them from, well, they're obviously up to _something_!" Mission realized that Jan was right—what were they going to do, tell the Director that the doctor and the Republic liaison were plotting together vaguely in a hole outside of town? No one would believe them, and then Coran would know that they knew. "But we can't just do _nothing_!"

Jan nodded slowly. "No, obviously not. I think we should tell Captain Onasi what we heard. He obviously suspects something, or Wann wouldn't have been worried. Maybe he can get the Fleet to investigate."

Mission agreed. Carth would know what to do. Jan boosted her out of the cave and then she reached down to help him out. They raced back to their scooters, which were fortunately undamaged by the storm.

They arrived in Marne just as the sky was turning pink with the sunset. She saw Carth walking away from the square toward the speeder bays. Mission dropped her scooter to the ground and ran to him, Jan just behind. "Carth!" she called.

He turned to her and blinked a few times, like he didn't recognize her. "Mission," he asked finally, "what have you been up to?"

She looked down at herself and flushed. She was still soaked through from the storm and covered, head to toe, in gray dust. Jan looked even worse, with the only clean part of him where his goggles had been. "Oh, um, well, we were out by the lake when the storm hit, and we had to go in this cave, and well, we—" she trailed off.

Mission expected him to tease her, but Carth just coughed and kept looking at her in that funny vague way. He looked paler than usual.

"Captain, are you all right?" Jan asked.

"Fine, I'm fine," he said. He started walking toward the bays without seeing if they were accompanying him. Mission exchanged a glance with Jan, then jogged forward and grabbed Carth's arm.

He stopped and looked down at her. "What do you need, Mission?" He sounded a little irritated.

She wasn't used to him being so short with her. She shuffled nervously, their story sounding farfetched now even to her. Maybe he wouldn't believe them. "Um, well, while we were in the cave, we heard Dr. Coran and Roland Wann talking about—" She stopped when she saw that Carth wasn't even looking at her. "Carth? Are you listening?"

He rubbed his forehead. She was struck by how tired he looked. "Mission, I'm sorry. I learned some things this afternoon and I need to get back to the base to talk to Roland Wann. I'm just in a hurry, that's all."

"But that's just what we need to talk to you about! We heard Roland Wann telling Dr. Coran that you were snooping around the base."

She seemed to finally catch his interest. "Really? So Coran's involved too. It makes sense that he would need local help."

Jan had been hovering behind Mission but now spoke up. "Captain, they were discussing the vaccine we all got last year. Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, I think they're working as they were designed. I had a message waiting for me back here that made me think Wann knows a lot more than he said." He started back toward the speeders. "I should be back tomorrow morning. Mission, we may need to go back to Coruscant sooner than I thought, so make sure your things are packed when I get back. In the meantime, don't go anywhere by yourself. Either of you."

Jan stepped in front of the older man, arms folded resolutely. "I'm coming with you to the base."

Carth looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Jan, what—"

"You know more than you're saying, too," Jan said accusingly. "You don't even live here anymore, but I do, and my brother is one of the missing people. I want Wann to tell me to my face that he's not behind it."

Mission wasn't about to get left behind on this trip. "If Jan's in, I am, too." she declared.

"Neither one of you is going!" Carth exclaimed. "This isn't some kind of game, you know. It could be dangerous, and I'm not going to tell your mother that she's lost another member of her family, Jan!"

Jan sobered at that. Carth apparently thought he'd ended the discussion and started to turn away, but Jan held his arm. "Please, Captain," he asked quietly. "I—I couldn't do anything in the attack to—to save people. And I couldn't do anything to protect Jirin. I just want to—you know, do something."

Carth looked at him for a long minute. "Can you use a blaster?" he asked.

Mission stifled a victory cry. Jan nodded seriously. "I'm a good shot, Captain, but mine is still at the house."

Carth unholstered one of his and handed it Jan. "It's probably a little heavier than what you're used to, but you shouldn't need it, anyway. Mission, are your blades still in the speeder?"

"Yup."

"All right, let's go, before we attract too much attention. Jan, you can send your mother a message from the speeder that we went to check out the Republic school at the base."

"Aw, Carth, that's such a lame excuse," Mission groused. "Tell her we went camping or something for my life day."

Carth sighed and looked like he wished he could change his mind. "Just get in the speeder, kids, would you, please?"

Mission elbowed Jan. "He's talking to you, you know. Kid."

"Last one to the speeder's a dewback!" he called over his shoulder as he raced for the bay.

"Hey! No fair!" Mission took off after him.


	9. Chapter 8

**EIGHT**

Dustil followed Melan, Torvim, and Iman past the doorwatcher and out to the ruins. It had been drizzly and cold for days, and the ground crunched with old ice. The sand blew around unpleasantly. Dustil trailed behind Melan and Torvim with Iman. The Rodian looked miserable—his people did not take well to the cold, and they were all wearing the just the standard Academy uniform. "Cold out here, huh?" Dustil asked cheerfully.

Iman glanced at him impassively. "It is not for me to complain."

Dustil grinned. "Then I guess I'll have to do it for both of us." Iman smiled slightly at that, and encouraged, Dustil said casually, "A good night to have a woman in your bed."

If the Rodian had eyebrows, they would have been raised. "This is what you call banter, Human? I do not joke of such a sacred thing."

Dustil backpeddled. "No, I know your kind mates for life. I guess you don't have a mate yet, then?"

Iman couldn't hide the sharp pang of loneliness that shot through him, and Dustil knew that he had him. This had to be Kaltona's husband. A Force user, obviously, but apparently not a Jedi. Dustil hadn't known that there were half-trained Force users in the service. Interesting.

He whispered, "Or do you miss your wife, Iman? Do you worry about her?"

Iman looked at him sharply. "How do you—?"

Melan shouted at them from a quarter klick up. "Come on, you two! I don't want to be out in this slop for longer than we have to!"

Dustil jogged ahead, taking a little satisfaction in Iman's confusion. The longer he could keep everyone off balance, the better it was for him. Without intending to, he thought of the Echani woman in the cantina looking for her Jedi killer. _You could be one, I think_. He shook his head. Now was not the time to fantasize about a glamorously evil career.

Melan stopped in front of a small opening in the rockface. She crossed her arms and grinned. "This is it."

Dustil looked at the opening skeptically. It was less than a meter in diameter—they'd have to crawl on their bellies to get in. "How far is it like this?" he asked.

Torvim squatted down and shone his wristlamp into the cave. The light only illuminated a few meters before being swallowed by the cave. "Melan, you didn't tell me we were going to have to go someplace like this," he complained. "How do you even know what's in here?"

"Because," she said in a falsely sweet voice, "I've been inside."

"You have? When?" Torvim looked irritated. Dustil suddenly found the hilt of his lightsaber very interesting. He didn't want to be in the middle of the couple's argument.

"Last week, when you were pathetically trying to get Revan's attention in the practice room." She smiled, her eyes hard and dark as stones.

"Hey, at least I—" Torvim protested.

Iman broke in softly. "I can see in the dark better than Humans. I will go first." Without further comment, he dropped to his stomach and pulled himself inside the cave. His wristlamp threw eerie shadows on the curved sides of the cave.

The three Humans looked at each other in surprise. Dustil swallowed his snicker. So much for Iman being timid. He gestured to the hole. "Melan, I think since you've been inside, you should go next."

"I was planning on it." She promptly followed Iman inside. Torvim watched her, his eyes on her short skirt and what it failed to cover.

"I'm next," he said quickly.

Dustil rolled his eyes at all of them—why did he feel so much older than everyone?—and dutifully followed Torvim into the cave. He was surprised to find that the walls and floor were perfectly smooth, as though the cave had been mechanically carved from the rock. Melan and Iman were talking ahead of him, but the walls turned their voices into weird, unintelligible echoes. He concentrated on his crawling and didn't bother trying to understand. He tried not to think about how close the walls were around him and what would happen if it got suddenly narrower. Torvim was broader than he was—he would get stuck first, and Dustil could back out of the hole. If it came to that.

Just as he was beginning to think the hole would never end, Torvim's feet suddenly disappeared in front of him. A few seconds later, Dustil found himself sticking out of the hole in a large cavern. He was about ten feet off the ground. He pushed himself out into space and used the Force to right himself before he hit the ground. Dust kicked up around his feet as he landed. The others were a few meters ahead of him, staring at the ceiling.

Dustil looked up and gasped. The roof of the cavern was a perfect dome twenty meters above their heads. It was studded with green crystals that sparkled in the dim light of their wrist lamps. The crystals themselves made a quiet tinkling noise, like a distant windchime. It almost sounded like words, like the crystals were speaking to him—

He was pushed roughly from the side and he stumbled to catch his balance. "Snap out of it," Torvim said roughly.

Dustil blinked and looked around at the others, who were now right in front of him. They were looking at him with varying degrees of concern on their faces. "What?" he asked.

"You've been staring up like a tame bantha for five minutes," Melan explained. "You weren't responding to us at all."

Dustil shook his head roughly, but he could still hear the crystals above him. "Can't you guys hear that?" he asked. He couldn't get their noise out of his head.

Iman looked at him closely. "The crystals speak to you, yes? There are some of my kind who can talk to the earth, but I have never heard of a Human who could do it."

"Yeah, well," Dustil said shakily, "let's just find whatever it is we came for and go." He didn't like the idea of being held in thrall by a pile of inanimate rock. The crystals had power, he could feel it, feel it calling for him. Asking him—

Iman gripped him by the shoulder, breaking another trance Dustil hadn't realized he'd fallen into. Melan and Torvim were far ahead of them now, still bickering. The Rodian leaned in closely. "You must control yourself, Dustil. Do not listen to the crystals. They are too powerful for us. They are from a Dark time, I think."

Together they made for the far end of the cavern, stepping around a perfectly circular pool of still water in the center of the cave. Dustil realized with a cold shudder that this was no ordinary cave, or even a tomb. It was an altar.

Melan was waiting for them, arms crossed over her chest and a smug smile on her face. "So, what you think?" she asked.

"It's all right, I guess," Torvim said, still pouting from their last argument. He shrugged. "I don't know what's so great about a bunch of crystals, except that they talk to Telos, here."

Iman was looking behind him at the pool. "The power comes from there," he stated flatly.

Melan grinned. "Very good, Iman. I knew you were the smart one in this group." She strolled over to the pool and sat cross-legged in front of it. Iman promptly went to the other side and did the same. Dustil exchanged wary glances with Torvim before following suit. He didn't care for the feel of any of this. It didn't feel Dark so much as it felt. . .old.

The pool was completely still and black, not even reflecting the crystals above their heads. Melan held her hands over it, palms down. The hollows of her eyes and cheeks were dark in contrast to the paleness of her face. "The pool will show us things."

Dustil raised an eyebrow. "What kinds of things?"

She smiled mysteriously. "Whatever you want, Dustil. It will show you whatever you want."

Dustil realized suddenly that Melan had been down here before, many more times than she had admitted. She knew how to use the pool, had probably used it before. Why had she asked them to come with her, then? The hair on the back of his neck rose and he suppressed a shiver. He had a bad feeling about this.

They were all looking at him, waiting for him to respond. "I, er, well—" he hesitated.

Melan leaned over the pool. "Come on, Dustil," she whispered, "tell it what you want to see."

_The future. Ask about the future,_ The crystals chimed down at him. He suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air in the cave. He didn't know why, but he knew that asking about the future was a terrible idea. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "The past. I, uh, I want to see the battle of Malachor V." Almost before the words were out—_did it know what he was going to ask?_—the pool darkened, and he felt it tugging at him, at the place where the Force lived inside him. "Wait—" he said, but suddenly the cave was gone before him.

He was on the bridge of a starship, looking down at a rocky gray planet. Malachor V, he knew. But it was as he had seen it in pictures after the war, the "before" pictures when the planet was still whole. This was before the battle, then. Before the—

"Activate the mass shadow generator," he heard himself say, but it wasn't his voice, it was a woman's voice, and he was terrified by the cold hardness contained in it. He looked down at himself, saw the brown Jedi Knight robes and the lightsaber hilt on the belt. He was watching from behind someone else's eyes.

"Yes, General," replied a soft voice behind him. He—she?—turned and saw a Zabrak in Republic colors behind a terminal. "General, you know what this will do."

"We have to end this war. However it can be done," the General said. She sounded resolute, but Dustil felt her doubt, her fear. He reached out with his Force senses and felt all the people the General was connected to. Force bond after Force bond, more than Dustil knew one person could hold. He could feel them stretching out like a web, all the way to the surface of the planet. How could she bear it, he wondered? Being connected to all those lives, all at once?

Suddenly a blinding wave of darkness hit him, and he went to his knees. A cry tore from his throat. For an agonizingly long moment, Dustil didn't know what had happened. Then he looked up and saw the planet imploding below him. He couldn't breathe—there wasn't air—all those lives, gone.

"General!" he heard, and then felt the Zabrak's hands under his elbows. "General, are you well?"

It was a hole, a great hole below him, inside him, an emptiness like he had felt on Telos, only a thousand times magnified because he was connected to it. The emptiness widened, was unstoppable, would consume him—

—and it was suddenly gone. He was sitting in the cave, staring down at the pool. He could see the faint reflection of the planet before it faded away. The taunting of the crystals was loud in his ears.

He stared at the others, still struggling for air. They looked back at him with mild expressions. "What did you see?" Iman asked.

"I saw—it was—they all died," he managed. "And I felt them all."

Iman bowed his head. "Malachor V was a terrible tragedy. It affects all of us."

Dustil was still struggling to comprehend what he saw. How had the General, whoever she was, borne it? She must have died—no one could survive such a terrible tear in the Force. He realized then that no one else was nearly as affected as him. "But did you not see it? Did any of you?"

Torvim rubbed the back of his neck. "I was on a Mandalorian ship. I think I _was_ a Mandalorian. Somebody said that Mandalore was dead, and people started killing themselves, right there. But it was like it wasn't me, you know? I couldn't feel any of them."

Melan smiled that same small smile. "I was far away, as well. I only saw what happened, and felt nothing."

Iman continued to stare at the pool. "I was on the planet. It did not last long."

Dustil put a shaking hand to his forehead. He had only been a boy when Malachor V happened, and he remembered the whispers of the adults, but he had never known what had really happened. He suddenly remembered being shocked out of bed one night by a terrible nightmare, something indescribable and Dark. His father had been gone, of course, but his mother comforted him and he went back to sleep. Dustil realized now that he must have felt the echo of Malachor, of all the lives lost at once. How could the Galaxy have let such a thing occur?

Back in the present, in the crystal cave, Dustil tried to regain control of himself and re-center himself in the Force. He focused on the ground beneath his folded legs, the feel of the rock against his hand, the damp smell of the cave around him. He realized with surprise he could still hear the echo of emptiness that he had felt on the ship, but it was far away and small enough to put aside. Looking around, Dustil found that he could suddenly feel the Force much more sharply than he ever had before. Dustil could feel Iman's presence in the Force strongly beside him, and he knew without question that the Rodian was not a Sith. His aura was strong, and he lent Dustil his strength. Slowly, Dustil felt his balance return.

"It's your turn, Iman," Melan whispered. "What do you want to see?" Dustil looked at the woman, and he could feel the Dark in her. He hadn't been able to see it clearly before, but it was as plain as the clothes she was wearing now. She was utterly and truly Dark. She wanted them here, for some reason. They should leave now, he realized, before—

"I wish to see the one I most care about," Iman said softly beside him.

"No, Iman, we should—" he started, but the pool tugged again and he was gone.

Dustil wondered for a moment who the pool would show him. Selene, maybe? A sharp spear of sadness pushed up from his throat, and he ruthlessly pushed it down. It had been over a year since Selene. . .was killed. Or maybe he would see his mother? Dustil simply didn't care for most people. Hell, he might even see Zuppo, the gizka he'd been allowed to keep when he was young. It figured that Iman would ask to see something vague.

The light changed, and Dustil could see a blue Twi'lek standing in front of him. _Mission?_ The person he cared most for was Mission? Dustil didn't understand it. She was a pretty but annoying kid who worshipped his father from what he could see, and she certainly didn't even make his top ten when he thought of who he cared for. Then his vision shifted, and Dustil could see an older kid, maybe sixteen, with heavily muscled arms, sandy hair, and prominent freckles. He looked familiar, and Dustil realized with a start that it was one of the Valenta twins from Marne. He certainly didn't care most about—

"Look, you two, we need to keep quiet from here on out, all right?" Dustil heard himself say in a familiar voice. He realized belatedly that he didn't care about Mission or the twin—whosever head he was in was just in the same room as them. If that was Jan or Jirin, then he was probably on Telos, and that would mean—Dustil looked down at himself and saw a familiar blaster and holsters on his hips. Dustil was inside his father's head.

Dustil mentally groaned. _Great. Just what you wanted. Maybe if you're lucky, you can still be inside his head when Revan comes back._ He was a little surprised, though. He would not have put his father at the top of his list, unless it was a list of vague resentment and mistrust. Maybe the pool knew something he didn't.

As a habit, Dustil reached out with his Force senses, and. . .they were gone. He couldn't feel anything around him, couldn't see any auras, didn't hear the life flowing through everything. Where had it gone? What had happened to him? Dustil spent a few panicked moments before he realized that his father wasn't Force sensitive, and he'd been trying to use the Force through him. He wondered at the blindness of it—Dustil hadn't known that there was anything special about what he could do until Bandon had found him in the cargo hold of the Leviathan and taken him to be trained. But he'd always been able to feel the Force, and it was terrifying to suddenly be cut off from it. How did people live without knowing it? Dustil had always thought that his father must have been a little Sensitive to be as good a pilot as he was—how else could he anticipate the rolls and turns of the ship as he did?—but he realized now that his father had always just done it on his own, without using the Force at all. Dustil's respect for him increased.

"I'll do the talking when we meet with Wann," Dustil heard Carth say. Dustil knew that tone of voice—his father wasn't fooling around. He saw Mission roll her eyes a little but the twin—was it Jan or Jirin?—nodded seriously.

"Don't worry, Captain," he said. "I just want to hear what happened to Jirin. I know you'll find out for us." Dustil wondered what had happened. He hadn't even realized that the Valentas survived the attack.

Carth took the lead as they left what was apparently a speeder bay and entered some sort of base. Dustil couldn't tell if they were underground or just inside—hell, they could even be on a ship for all he knew. They passed door after unmarked door on their way to "Wann's" office. The place looked deserted.

Cautiously, Dustil tried to feel his father's thoughts. It was tricky, because he had to hold himself away from his father to use his Force senses, and then the world around him got indistinct and the movement made him nauseous. He closed his "eyes" and reached out. Carth's mind was surprisingly closed for someone without Force abilities—Dustil couldn't actually hear individual thoughts, just vague impressions and directions. _Should not have brought the kids/Wann knows about the virus/Have to stay alert/Let Case and Dustil be safe/Blasters charged and ready/Remember the exits._ Dustil was surprised to hear that, even as he was on his own dangerous mission, Carth worried about him and Revan. Overlaying all of his father's thoughts, though, was some kind of haze, like something was off. Dustil tried to pinpoint it, and suddenly felt the virus in Carth's blood. He froze. What was wrong with him? Dustil couldn't reach it, couldn't Heal it, couldn't do anything to stop it. Now that he was looking for it, Dustil could tell that his father was fevered, his reactions a little slower than they should have been. Whatever was wrong with him, he was not in any condition to be unraveling some kind of conspiracy. _Go back!_ he tried to shout to Carth, tried to reach Mission and Jan, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He couldn't get through his father's Force insensitivity.

They reached a large door flanked with armed guards. "Captain Onasi for Ambassador Wann," he ordered. One of the guards consulted his comm, then stood aside.

Carth pushed open the door and entered the Ambassador's office.

Wann, a heavy-set man in Republic colors, was standing behind his desk with his arms crossed. The light wood walls clashed with the red of Wann's uniform. Dustil instinctively tried to feel the man's aura, but was rebuffed again. Wann smiled widely, falsely. "Captain Onasi! It's good to see you again! How can I be of assistance?" He noticed Carth's companions. "Ah, Mission, is it? Did you and your friend come to join our school?"

Mission grumbled something that Dustil couldn't quite make out. His father's pulse was loud in his ears, drowning out the sounds around him. "Ambassador, I have some questions for you. I hope you can help me get the answers."

Wann's smiled faded a bit. "Of. . .course," said hesitatingly. "Please, have a seat." He waved them to a group of chairs across from a couch. Carth sat on the edge of the couch facing the door, blaster still within easy reach. Mission and Jan awkwardly joined him. Wann sat in the central chair, his bulk uneasily placed on the thin plasteel. He smiled tightly. "So, Captain, what do you need to know?"

"The virus, Wann. What does the Diplomatic Corp know about it?"

Wann hesitated, and Dustil reached out to test his thoughts, only to be rebuffed hard by the plascrete wall of his father's Force insensitivity. He ground his teeth in frustration. He'd gotten too used to the Force helping him read people, and he couldn't tell by just looking at Wann what his intentions were.

"We don't know anything about it. The Republic is very concerned whenever anything happens to one of its citizens, and I assure you that we are doing all we can to help the people of Telos." Wann smiled ingratiatingly.

"Do you know a Zabrak who lives just south of the polar regions?" Carth asked.

Wann's eyes darted to the huge holomap of Telos on his wall. "A Zabrak?" he fumbled, "no, I don't think I know of any—"

Carth leaned forward abruptly and held out a datapad to Wann. The sudden movement made Dustil feel a little speeder-sick, and he wondered if it was his father's discomfort or his own. "I doubt that, but I don't care if you lie to me or not. He's a veteran of the Mandalorian War, and was on the front line at Malachor V when you were attending state dinners on Coruscant. He's not happy about what's apparently happening in the Senate. About Telos." Carth shook the datapad. "He left me a message after I had been here. He knows the truth behind this virus of yours, Wann. About these so-called vaccines."

Wann's collar suddenly looked too tight. He stood up and opened the door to the hallway. "That's about all I have time for today, Captain. If you have concerns about the Senate, I suggest you take it up with your local representative—"

"You've sold the planet to the Ithorians, haven't you?" Carth asked loudly. "You planted a virus to scare the last of the settlers off, and even that didn't work, did it? Now you've resorted to actually killing people." He stood, and had to steady himself on the back of the couch. Dustil couldn't believe what he was hearing—the Republic was selling its own planets to outsiders? Dustil wasn't sure he'd even met an Ithorian—they stayed on their own planet and did weird breeding experiments, from what he remembered. What did they want with Telos?

Wann's diplomatic smile cracked and he glared at Carth. "You backwater colonists never think about what's good for the Republic, do you? No, it's only ever about you and your precious fifty square klicks of farming land." He was practically spitting. "Telos is destroyed, Captain, and it has been for the last four years. It's not getting better, do you understand? Only ten percent of the formerly useable land is repairable—the rest of it is ruin, and it will always be ruin unless we do something about it. Telos is the symbol of our recovery from the wars. We can't let it stay as it is—the public relations are terrible!" Wann stormed away from the door and pointed his finger at Carth. "I thought a man who had traveled as much as you would be a little less provincial. Doctor Coran understood what needed to be done, even if no one else in Marne did."

Carth clamped his hands hard onto his wide belt holster. "I guess I'm just a colonist at heart," he replied. "You didn't deny my accusation. Viruses, useless vaccines, what next, Wann? Ordering children out of their schools at gunpoint? Are you going to poison the crops? You were always a spineless administrator, but I never pegged you for a killer." Dustil shuddered at the cold venom in his father's voice.

To his credit, Wann actually looked chagrined for a moment. He looked at the floor, then back at Carth. His garish tunic strained against his shoulders. "We all have our burdens to bear, Captain," he said. "I have to do what's best for the Republic."

"But what about Jirin?" Jan asked suddenly. He crossed the room in a flash and grabbed Wann's arm. "What did you do to him?"

Wann looked confused. "What?"

"Jirin! You took my brother and you have him somewhere! _What did you do?_" Jan shook the man, and the Republic security guards started toward them. Wann held up his hand to wave them off.

"Son, I—"

"I'm not your son!"

"I don't know where your brother is. I'm sorry to tell you I'm not the root of all evil on this planet. I'd ask the separatists, if I were you. Are you sure that Jirin didn't join them?"

"No! Of course he didn't! He would have told me—" Jan trailed off, looking defeated. Wann was Hutt-spawn, but it was clear he really didn't know. Dustil wondered what happened to Jirin—he had been the more timid of the Valenta twins, and Dustil didn't think he would have joined a band of mercenaries out of the blue.

Carth put his hand on Jan's shoulder. "Come on, Jan, we've learned all we're going to here. I have a report to make with the Fleet."

All traces of compassion vanished from Wann's face. "Actually, Captain, I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Carth's hand went to his blaster, but stopped at the low hum of five blaster rifles being trained on him at once. "You would keep a Fleet officer here against his will? You don't have the authority."

Wann gestured, and a pretty blond woman came into the room through a side door. She was holding a hypospanner. "Ooh, sorry, Captain, but I'm afraid that you have the Telosian flu."

Carth looked sharply at Wann. The man shrugged. "Looks like your vaccine deactivated. And my sources tell me that all of the remaining vaccines will be deactivating within twenty-eight hours. We can't let you go back to Marne and infect everyone, can we? After all, there's no cure."

"The virus and the vaccine are the same, aren't they?" Carth asked slowly, realization dawning as he spoke. "You infected everyone with the new virus when you 'cured' them of the last virus." Dustil could feel the anger in his father and wondered if Wann would still be alive if the guards didn't have their blasters aimed at Carth.

"Very good, Captain." Wann clapped his hands together. "Now, I'm afraid we need to wrap up this meeting. I have to begin the evacuation plans."

The blonde piped up. "Republic regulations require that we quarantine you and all of your companions for fourteen days or until you expire. That means you, the boy, and the pretty blue Twi'lek will have to stay here—" she trailed off, looking around the room. "What happened to the girl?"

Carth and Jan looked at each other in surprise. Wann shouted to the guards, "The Twi'lek is loose. She probably has a stealth belt on—find her and bring her to the quarantine cells." He turned back to them, training a small blaster on Jan. "I'll need your weapons, Captain. I assume you won't put up a fight? You look like you can barely stand, and I don't think you intend to risk your young companion by any rash behavior."

Dustil felt the fever clouding his father's thoughts, fear and guilt chasing themselves around in his head. His father's tactician's mind ran through several scenarios, but they all ended with either him or Jan dead. Carth held up his hands. "You win, Wann." He almost kept the resignation out of his voice.

Wann nodded. "I usually do. Guard, take them to—"

Dustil was abruptly yanked out of his father's head and found himself back in the cave. "Wait!" he shouted. He had to find out where they were taking his father, what they were going to do. He had to get to him before the virus killed him.

"Who did you see, Dustil? Someone special, I guess. What was her name, that girl you were paired with?" Dustil blinked slowly, Melan coming into focus before him. "I wouldn't move if I were you," she said sweetly. Dustil glanced down and blanched.

Melan's red lightsaber was a centimeter from his neck. "You and I have unfinished business, Dustil. We need to talk about why you and Revan are really here."


	10. Chapter 9

**NINE**

Dustil swallowed hard and forced himself not to back away from the hissing red blade at his jugular. "I don't know what you're talking about," he started.

Melan rolled her eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid? Revan shows up at the Academy six months ago, you disappear, and then you're both suddenly back here? Lie to me again and I will take off your head." Her voice sounded detached, almost amused, but Dustil knew she was anything but.

"Fine," he said finally. "We're going to kill Huntak, take over the Academy, and use it as a base to start a new campaign against the Republic. You know, just like we learned in Sith Tactics 301 last year." He hoped his sarcasm would throw her off the scent.

No such luck. "Are you her apprentice?" she asked.

Dustil decided he'd fooled around with Melan long enough and switched tactics. He popped her back a meter with a small Force Push and pulled himself to his feet. He ignited his blade and kept it between them. "I would never be that woman's apprentice," he growled.

Melan grinned and picked herself up from the cave floor. She dusted off her hands. "Too bad. That would have made it more fun when I tell you my plans."

Dustil looked around him, and was surprised to see Iman and Torvim still locked in meditative poses, glassy-eyed and staring at the pool. Dustil reached out and shook Iman a little, but the Rodian made no movement. Dustil looked up at Melan. "What's wrong with them?"

She smiled, and Dustil felt cold down his spine. "They're seeing what they want to see—what was it Iman asked for? 'The one I care about the most?' Torvim's probably seeing me without my uniform on, or maybe himself. I imagine Iman is seeing his wife—what, you thought I didn't know? Come on, Dustil, you're not the only smart kid at this Academy."

Dustil glanced around for an exit while trying to keep his thoughts shielded from Melan. She had trapped the other two, somehow, and he had to get out of the cave before she finished whatever plans she had for him. He forced what he hoped was a nonchalant grin. "I don't underestimate anyone, Melan. Everyone knows you're top of the class here."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Here? I don't care about the Academy anymore. It's crumbling, and soon it will be just empty caves and broken terminals. Master Huntak isn't strong enough to lead the Sith." She looked at him coyly through lowered eyelashes. "But we are, Dustil. Together we can unify the Galaxy against the Republic." Her voice was menacing.

Dustil's breath caught. They had thought Huntak was the threat, but it was Melan who had the power. Dustil could see it flowing off of her like oil onto water. She was drawing on the strength of Torvim and Iman, slowly draining them to make herself stronger, like some kind of Force parasite. "What are you?" he asked.

She stood, practically glowing with the Force. "I am power itself," she intoned, sounding for all the world like the ancient Sith lords they read about in school. "The pool taught me to use powers I didn't know that I had, and now I am stronger than everyone here," she paused, "except possibly you." She held out her hand to Dustil. "Join me, Dustil. We will be Master and Apprentice together."

Dustil looked at her outstretched hand and considered her offer. He could feel the Force so much more strongly now than he ever had before, and he knew with sudden certainty that he was more powerful than Melan, despite her newfound powers. He could defeat her and take the power of the pool for himself. The crystals from above chimed softly down to him. _This is what you've been waiting for_. He wouldn't have to wait for the Jedi Council to train him, wait for Revan to trust him, wait for the threat that he could _feel_ out on the Rim—he could meet the threat head on and defeat it himself. He could save them all.

Dustil made a quick decision. He stood and grabbed Melan's hand.

She smiled in victory. Dustil felt her try to draw his strength from him, and for a second couldn't think what to do. He felt his knees weaken. Then he pushed back hard against her and she stumbled away from him, gasping. "How did you—" she started.

Dustil ignited his saber and strode toward her. He could feel the string she had established between them and reversed the flow. Now he was drawing strength from her. She put a hand to her heart, dropped to a knee. Dustil smiled and raised his blade above her. The crystals were loud in his head.

"No!" someone shouted behind him, breaking his concentration. He lost the flow from Melan and staggered from the sudden void. Melan collapsed to the ground, senseless. Revan dropped through the entrance and was running toward him, her yellow blade bright in the darkness. "Dustil, don't do it," she called.

_Interfering as always._ He snarled at her, "What do you have to say about it, Revan? I am more powerful than you now!"

"It's this place, Dustil," she said, standing just outside of his blade's reach. "It's using you, just like it was using Melan."

"No, I'm using it! It can't control me. _You_ can't control me!" he shouted. He could hardly see through his rage, but dimly, as though from a distance, he could hear himself asking why he was so angry in the first place. He shook those thoughts away and ran at Revan, red blade raised above his head.

She brought her blade up to meet his, and the two crashed together with a scream of protest. Dustil pushed down as hard as he could, throwing all of his Force strength behind his saber. Revan twisted her wrists and dislodged herself from his blade. "Do you really want to fight me, Dustil?" she asked, teeth showing in a hard smile. "I've defeated every Sith lord this side of the Unknown Regions—a brat like you will hardly be a challenge."

Dustil furiously swung at her and she parried each thrust without breaking a sweat. He tossed his blade to his right hand and thrust his left palm toward Revan to Force Push her backward. She wasn't expecting the push and stumbled back on one foot. Dustil leapt high and brought his blade down with all of his weight behind it. Revan brought her blade in front of her but wasn't properly balanced to completely deflect him. He pushed his blade past hers and heard a satisfying hiss as he cut into the flesh of her arm. She grunted in pain and planted her boot roughly in his chest. Dustil landed with a crash halfway across the cave. The breath was knocked out of him and he stared at the ceiling, gasping. Why didn't she Force Choke him and be done with him? He realized then through his breath-starved brain that Revan hadn't used the Force at all in their fight. It was like she didn't have it to use--

Dustil flipped himself to his feet just in time to see Revan running toward him, a disturbingly blank expression on her face. Her left arm hung uselessly beside her, but she slashed effortlessly with her right. Dustil growled and parried, but he was forced backward, step by agonizing step, toward the pool. Sweat burned his eyes and his breath burned in his throat. He could feel his strength faltering. The crystals were still chiming down at him, but their sound was mocking him now. They had turned against him. Dustil threw yet another thrust to his right, and momentarily lost his grip on the hilt of his blade. Revan swung underneath his arms and knocked the blade out of his hand. It clattered to the ground across the cave, its red glow sputtering once before going dark. Revan leapt into the air to deliver what Dustil knew would be the killing blow. He shouted and leapt backward. His boots splashed in the pool. The crystals went suddenly silent.

Still in midair, Revan shook her head and pulled to the left. She came down, not on top of him, but a meter away. She kept her blade between them, chest heaving as she caught her breath. She still said nothing, only stared at him with that same blank expression.

Dustil caught his own breath. He kept his gaze warily on Revan, ready to leap out of the way if she were to make a move toward him, but he didn't sense any aggression from her. Come to think of it, he realized, he didn't feel _anything_ from her at all. He squinted with his newly sharpened Force senses, but he couldn't see her aura. It was like she had cut herself off from the Force. He shook his head. No one would willingly do such a thing. But even non-Force users had an aura of some kind, and she didn't have anything, like she was a negative space in front of him.

"Revan—" he began hesitantly.

She looked at him. "So, Dustil," she asked flatly, "did you get your fill of the fight, or shall we go another round?"

"What have you done to yourself?" he asked.

She smiled then, and looked terribly tired. "Nothing can reach me where I am. Would you have me held in thrall by the crystals, like you? Or turned to the Dark here on this wretched planet? It's all I could think of to do." She laughed hollowly. "Not my best idea, I admit. I'm not sure I can turn the Force back on now that it's gone."

Dustil couldn't believe it, didn't know how she had done it. "But why would you cut yourself off from what makes you a Jedi?"

She didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at the pool thoughtfully. "You have to be a Jedi to stop being a Jedi, I think." She clapped her hands together suddenly and strode purposefully toward the pool. "I've been here before, did you know that?" she asked.

Revan was wearing what Dustil knew through the rumor mill as her Star Forge robes, black and oddly luminescent. The students whispered that Revan could actually hear their thoughts when she was wearing it, not just the outlines of their minds. That was how she could anticipate their fencing moves so well. Dustil had seen Revan practicing with Master Jolee and knew better. She was the best fencer he had ever seen, and if the robes made her a little harder to hit, then all the better. Dustil was surprised to feel a little pride that he'd managed to hit her at all.

She looked up then and smiled a little more broadly. "You did well, Dustil. You'll beat me with a blade one of these days."

"I thought you couldn't feel the Force!" he said accusingly.

"No, but you're grinning like a Mandalorian in the dueling circle." She turned away from him and looked at the pool. She raised her arms over it. "You can feel the power here, even without the Force." She raised her voice. "Show me my destiny!" she ordered.

"No!" Dustil dove toward her and tried to pull her away from the pool. "What are you doing? Don't let it show you the future—" He was too late.

It was dark where he was.

Dustil looked around, blinking, trying to get his eyes used to the lack of light. He could hear his breath echoing loudly around him. The air smelled like sulfur and damp stone. He didn't even know who he was inhabiting, but he was suddenly afraid the person would call out and attract the wrong kind of attention.

Suddenly, an explosion somewhere nearby shook the ground and threw him down. Dustil tentatively reached out with his Force senses and was relieved to find that his host was Force-sensitive. He could feel someone on the other side of the near wall coming closer. It was still pitch black wherever he was—the smell made Dustil suspect that it was a cave of some kind, but he couldn't tell without light and his host didn't seem inclined to do anything about it. Maybe his host was blind, and that's why he couldn't see.

A crack of light to his right dispelled Dustil of the notion that his host was blind. The crack widened into a door shaped outline. Dustil mentally jumped when a red lightsaber suddenly flashed into existence next to him. In his own hand. The crack widened into a cone and Dustil blinked against the sudden intrusion of sight. A silhouette framed the doorway.

"Hello? Is there someone in here?" the person asked.

"Another vision, come to torment me?" Dustil heard his host ask. The voice was oddly familiar, but Dustil couldn't place if for several seconds. "Why do you come here, vision?" his host asked again. Dustil realized with a sinking stomach that the voice was his own. He was inside himself. Of course, he realized, he was seeing his destiny. Naturally, he would be inside himself. But why was he in this cave, and what nonsense was he talking about? Dustil looked down to see himself in black armor, but he couldn't tell how much older he was. It could be two years, or it could be twenty years. The red lightsaber and armor suggested he was Sith.

The person came farther into the room, a double-sided saber held warily in front of her. The blade had a silvery-green glow that Dustil had never seen before. Some kind of special crystal, perhaps. The person was wearing brown Jedi robes. Short red hair framed her face and she looked to be in her thirties. Dustil was struck by the hardness in her face, like she had seen hundreds of battles.

"You are a Jedi?" she asked. Dustil reached for her with his Force senses and was surprised at what he found. The woman was connected to at least four other people with Force bonds, but her aura didn't seem to be her own so much as it was the reflection of other auras. The feel of her mind was familiar, and Dustil realized that this was the General who ordered the destruction of Malachor V. Dustil was surprised she was still alive after what he had felt inside her at Malachor.

"Another vision! Don't think I can't see through this deception. The vision leaves, only to sneak up later when I am less aware. Better to silence it now." Dustil heard himself say. He stalked away from the woman and laughed, an odd, nervous cackle. He gestured wildly with his lightsaber toward the ceiling, and Dustil saw that it was lined with green crystals similar to the crystal in the pool cave. He concentrated and could hear them tinkling. _She hates you. She's not real. She's just a trick, _they whispered.

"I'm not a vision," the woman replied. She glanced upward at the crystals, then back to him. "How long have you been trapped in here with these crystals, Jedi?"

"'I am not a vision,' says the vision. Ha! Well then, I am not Dustil Onasi, son of Carth, no. I am not a Jedi either. I am Jedi. So proud, so proud to be. I escaped the Dark side only to return. Why did I return? Why? The other Jedi wanted to. They tricked me. Oh, they tricked me. I did not know then that they were all visions. Visions all." Dustil could hear his future self's breath loudly in the cave. Dustil was horrified. What the hell had happened to him? _This_ was his destiny, to be stark raving mad in a cave by himself?

The General looked at him in surprise. "Carth's son? You mean Admiral Onasi?"

"The vision speaks of my father, not knowing I killed him twenty-two times, and he has killed me, but I did not die. He won't be coming back for me, not again. With his tricks." He crossed the room toward the General in five long steps, lightsaber raised as if to strike. The woman brought her own blade up to block, but Dustil pulled his blade aside suddenly. "No, vision, it won't help me to kill you, I realize that."

Dustil was desperate to get out of his own head. He couldn't stand to hear himself for a second longer. He struggled but couldn't extricate himself from his own insanity.

The woman backed toward the door, saber still ready. "Dustil, your father isn't dead. He's an Admiral in the Fleet, and I've spoken with him. He thinks you're lost again, just like Revan is lost. He's. . .sad, Dustil. Why don't you come with me?" Dustil could feel the Force Persuade pulsing through her words.

Dustil's future self paused, and Dustil thought he might actually come around. But then he let out an inhuman screech and launched himself at the Jedi. She looked terribly sad as she brought up her blade to protect herself. She slashed toward his neck—

--and Dustil found himself still holding onto Revan's arm. His prior momentum carried him backward and fell onto his back, pulling Revan down on him.

She lay there for a moment, apparently still lost in whatever vision the pool had shown her, but then she shook her head and pushed away from him. She winced as she moved her left arm. Dustil sat up behind her and let out a shaking breath. He had been about to die, he was sure. The General didn't have any choice once his insane future self had rushed her with his blade. That was how it would end, then?

Revan seemed equally affected by whatever she had seen. She finally got to her feet and reached her right hand down to help Dustil up. "The future. . .is changeable, Dustil," she said quietly. "You can take control of your own destiny, if you don't like what you see."

"Did you like what you saw?" he asked her.

She didn't look at him as she gathered her lightsaber and resettled her cloak. "I have seen it before. A long time ago. Nothing has changed, except now the need is urgent."

"The need for what?"

She finally looked him in the face. Her eyes were heavily shadowed, like she had seen a lifetime of dreams in the pool. "We can't go on as we have, ignoring the Darkness around us and huddling around a tiny fire. The fire will go out and we'll be left alone in the Dark unless we face it while we still have the strength of the Light behind us."

Dustil didn't quite know how to respond. He felt the menace from the crystals above him and just for a second—a flash, nothing more—he thought he understood what she meant. But then it was gone in a rush of dust and movement, and he lost the chance to ask. Revan was walking purposefully toward the entrance to the cave. She looked back at him over her shoulder. "Come on. We have to move before Melan comes back with reinforcements."

Dustil realized that the girl was no longer in the cave with them. She must have snuck away while he had been fencing with Revan. Torvim was gone, too, but Iman was still unconscious by the side of the pool. His bluish skin looked gray and stretched thin across his bones. "Wait, Revan," he called. "We have to get Iman out of here, too. He's not Sith."

Revan paused, the line of her back radiating impatience, and Dustil hurried to rouse the Rodian. "Come on, Iman," he said, shaking the nonhuman, "we have to go."

Iman groaned and blinked slowly, his huge eyes almost comically dazed. He put a hand to his head. "What—what happened?"

"Melan's a Sith Lord and we're going to be Sithmeat if we don't get out of here right now." Dustil hauled Iman's arm over his shoulder and the two staggered toward the entrance where Revan was still waiting.

"Master Revan—" Iman began, looking at Dustil with surprise and suspicion.

Dustil shook his head. "She's okay. I'll explain later."

Revan ignored them and started out of the tunnel. Her left arm still hung useless by her side, and she crouched along with her right side forward. Her yellow blade threw shadows backward and gave Iman's skin a greenish hue. The Rodian made his way slowly out behind Revan. Dustil brought up the rear, red blade ready. With a shudder, he remembered the way the red glow of his future self's lightsaber turned the whole cave red. On impulse, he scooped up a green crystal fragment from the ground and stuck it in a pocket. The chime of the crystals faded as he emerged into the dusty air of Korriban.

It was night now. The moons of the planet brought the rock formations between the canyon and the Academy entrance into sharp relief. The three moved wordlessly toward the Academy. Dustil was desperate to ask Revan about what she saw at the pool, what she had meant about a looming Darkness, but he could feel the menace throbbing from the Academy and knew that now was not the time. First, they had to survive.

* * *

Case held up her hand to bring Dustil and the Rodian to a halt behind her as they reached the high doors into the Academy. Out of habit, Case reached with the Force to see what was inside but was rebuffed by the wall she had built around herself. She clenched her jaw in frustration and tried not to worry that she would never get the Force back. She could work on it after she got off this Light-forsaken planet. But first, they had to get through the Academy.

Case turned to the two behind her. "The quickest way to Dreshdae is through the main entrance hall, but we'll be outflanked on all sides by students. We can't fight them all at once. In fact, it's better if we don't have to fight them at all. What grenades do you two have with you?"

Iman held out a concussion grenade and a gas mine. Dustil fumbled in the pockets of his Academy uniform and came up with a flash grenade, a small stone, and a bit of string. He shrugged. "What, do you think I have an unlimited inventory in my pockets?"

Case ignored him and tossed a frag grenade in her hand thoughtfully as she stared at the heavy double doors. "Okay. Dustil, do you know how to Force Boost a group?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that."

"Then here's what we'll do. We go through the doors and Dustil, you Boost us and keep us Boosted until we get through to Dreshdae. Czerka won't let the Academy destroy its outpost, so we'll have some reinforcements as long as we can get there. Iman, you do your thing with Stasis on anyone who gets within fifty meters of us. I'll take care of any forward fencing, and Dustil, you maintain the rear. Save your grenades for boarding a ship. We may need to take one by force. Both of you have that?"

They nodded.

"Then let's do it. Remember the goal is to get through the Academy, not fight every baby Sith inside. Let's go!" Case kicked in the door and they raced inside.

Dustil pushed his hand forward and surrounded all of them with the blue glow of Force Boost. They surged ahead and a second later were inside the main chamber. Case thought students would come at them from all sides, lightsabers blazing, but the room was unexpectedly dark and silent. Dustil lost his concentration and the group stuttered to a normal speed. There was some kind of dark object in the center of the room. It wasn't moving, and Case thought at first it was a statue. She got closer and swallowed a gasp.

Huntak was impaled on a Force pike. His lekku hung limply almost to the ground and his eyes were open and staring. He was dead.

Case was surprised by the sadness she felt. Huntak was Dark, dangerous, and a threat to the Republic. But he had recognized the neutrality in her, and respected it.

"Revan, look around the room," Dustil whispered.

She tore her eyes away from Huntak and saw the bodies scattered around the edges of the room. Academy students. Case recognized some of her students, Kella, Jahrentia, Pol, Landoharter, Jekta, and Maldo. And fifty others. They had been attacked, some obviously with lightsabers, others with what looked like animal teeth.

Dustil was clenching and unclenching his jaw like his father did when he was choked up about something. These had been the enemy, true, but Case knew he had also spent four years of his life with these students, ate with them, sparred with them. She knew it had to be sickening to see them slaughtered like this.

Dustil looked up to see her watching him closely. He sneered at her, all traces of shock brushed away. "What, do you want me to say something profound about the stupid death of all these students? Come on, we have better things to do than stand around looking at fools who couldn't defend themselves." He turned away from her and made for the door.

Melan was standing there. Her already pale face was starkly white, her eyes just dark holes in her head. Dark shadows under her cheeks made her look gaunt. Her black hair was streaked with gray. She smiled ever so slightly. "Did you change your mind about joining me?" she asked. Her voice was different—there was a high-pitched hiss underneath her words. Torvim walked in behind her with three other students, his double-sided blade blazing brightly. All of the students had the hollow cheeks and dark eyes of Dark side disciples. The silence between the two groups was like brittle ice.

Without warning, Iman threw his open palm forward and every Sith except Torvim and Melan was suddenly rigid in a Stasis field. Iman whipped out a blaster and fired a volley of shots which the Stasis-stricken students couldn't block. The three toppled to the ground, blaster holes in their chests. Before Case could stop him, he fired another shot at Torvim, who lazily brought up his lightsaber and deflected the bolt back toward Iman. Dustil leapt over and narrowly caught the end of the bolt to send it flying harmlessly away. He slugged Iman hard in the arm.

"Idiot!" he growled, eyes still on Melan and Torvim. "Blasters are worthless against Jedi!"

"He's right," Case said mildly. "But good shots against the weaker ones." Iman nodded curtly and holstered his blaster. He reluctantly reactivated his saber.

Case eyed Melan appraisingly, and knew the girl was doing the same to her. Torvim was irrelevant—he was strong only by association with Melan, and Case knew Dustil and Iman could easily handle him. It was Melan who was the problem. Even without the Force to help her, Case could see that the girl reeked with the Dark side, and it wasn't just the standard-issue Dark that Malak and Huntak had embraced. Melan had gone further, deeper, into the old ways of the ancient Sith, and they had damaged her, somehow. She seemed—hollow, almost.

"What have you done, Melan?" she asked quietly, her voice easily carrying across the echoing hall.

For an answer, Melan threw Force Lightning at them. Case brought her blade up just in time to avoid the red sparks. "I am no longer Melan," she announced. "I am beyond your simple human names!" The hiss under her words pitched higher, garbling her words.

Case knew that sound. She had dreamed it for months, had heard it again at the pool in the cave. It was the sound of the true Sith. "Melan, don't do this. You're still human, you can still come back to us." With no Persuasion in her voice, her words seemed to drop to the floor between them.

"Silly woman, silly Jedi, yes, I know what you are. Your aura is gray, but your acts are blue. And you've seen us before, haven't you? Long ago, before you were raped by the Jedi and turned into 'Case.'" Her eyes flicked over to Dustil. "The boy is stronger than you, I think. And also gray. But he will be stronger later and I'd rather have you now."

Dustil shouted across the hall, "Here that, Torvim? She's about to dump you for Lord Revan! How do you like being Melan's plaything?"

Torvim's face turned red, a refreshing change from its whiteness. "Shut up, Dustil!" he shouted. "You always thought you were better than us. I'm going to enjoy killing you."

Case ignored the taunting. "What are you now, Melan? Where will you go?"

"Oh, trying to turn me back to the Light, Jedi? It won't happen now. I've jettisoned everything about me that might be tempted by your dirty tricks and lies. There's just power inside of me now. And I hunger for more." Melan laughed and Case was chilled to the bone. The very sound seemed to suck the hope from the room. She knew then that Melan was not coming back to the Light. Anyone could be saved, Jolee had sworn to her once, but Melan was no longer there for saving.

Melan ran toward them, red blade held high. Iman threw a Stasis field toward her but it fluttered away like hifa chaff. Case raised her blade to meet Melan's, and the two crashed together with a scraping scream. Case lost herself in the dance of the battle, sliding left and right, now jumping to her toes to miss a low blow to her ankles, now ducking and swiping at Melan's calves. Her useless left arm made the maneuvers difficult. Melan, an indifferent fencer in Case's classes, fought now with the knowledge of every lightsaber form ever conceived. The part of Case's mind that was always detached during battles noted a few new forms that she filed away to try out on the practice floor herself. She would need them when she left here.

She almost laughed when she realized what she was thinking. Here she was, fighting for her life, doing every piece of fancy footwork she knew just to stay even with this Ancient Sith in girl form, and she was thinking about what she was going to do after she left. She might as well pick out her outfit for her funeral pyre while she was at it. Case forced her attention back to the battle. She noted approvingly that Dustil had pulled Torvim away from Melan and was handily forcing him back into a corner. Melan was sweating, her hair falling in front of her eyes as she moved. Through the dark tangle of hair, Case caught a glimpse of the girl's face. Her eyes were wide and staring, like a bantha caught in the lights of a speeder. She was plainly terrified.

Case drove forward with renewed energy, gritting her teeth against the white-hot pain in her left arm where Dustil had slashed her. She didn't need the Force to realize that Melan was being driven by whatever she had sold herself to. All the girl could manage to throw at her was a bit of Force Lightning here and there, not the really dangerous weapons that Case couldn't block without the Force, like Horror or Choke. Case had the chance to destroy her now, while she was still weak. Case banged her blade quickly up, down, and then up again. While the girl reached high to block the blow, Case snagged her foot around Melan's ankle and tugged. Overbalanced already, the girl landed heavily on her back, gasping and panting. Her lightsaber rolled out of reach, red blade pointing impotently toward the exit. Case grinned and felt suddenly that Canderous would approve. She raised her blade.

The next thing she knew, she was dizzily trying to raise her head off the ground twenty meters away. She dimly heard Iman shout her name. Only years of training brought her to her feet, but every muscle in her body screamed, and she could barely keep her lightsaber up. Melan was standing across the chamber with a nasty grin on her face, left hand outstretched toward Case, the right again clutching her blade. Case looked around to see Dustil and Iman also struggling to rise. Somehow Melan had recovered, and in a big way. But how?

Case realized that she must be drawing strength from Torvim just as she suddenly felt herself flipped up in the air and spun. Whirlwind! Second year initiates could block whirlwind, for Qel Droma's sake. But she had cut herself off from the Force, no better now than a deaf woman. Melan walked slowly toward her, blade raised and menacing. Case closed her eyes and tried to center herself. On her next spin, she flung her lightsaber toward the far wall where Torvim was standing. "Dustil!" she shouted.

Dustil, bless him, knew what to do. He reached toward the spinning yellow saber and Force Pulled it past him at an impossible speed. Case saw Torvim's glazed eyes dully register surprise just before the blade went through him.

Melan gasped and Case tumbled to the ground. She rocked to her feet, vision still whirling. She called her saber to her hand out of habit and cursed when it didn't come. Melan was backing away from all three of them, a keening wail escaping from behind clenched teeth. Dustil and Iman came up on either side of Case, and Iman handed her his blade. Case ignited it, noting distractedly how familiar the red glow felt in her hand.

Melan's eyes darted from left to right like a cornered animal.

"I'm afraid your host is dead," Case said quietly. "That's all he was, wasn't he, Melan? I think you loved him, once, as much as any Sith can love another. But now he's dead, and it's because of you."

The girl's eyes widened and she almost looked like herself again. She stared at Case, then at her pale hands. "What have I done?" she whispered. She looked back up at Case. "Revan, help me, please! Help me come back to the Light! I'm. . .afraid. . ."

Iman lowered his blasters. "If we can help her. . ."

Case looked hard at the girl, and saw in her place Juhani in the Grove, pleading for death, Bastila sobbing on her shoulder at the Star Forge like she would never stop, Dustil shouting in the cave on Korriban. She saw Carth's face, eyes full of shame and pain, just before he killed Saul. Case lowered her blade and extended her hand.

"Case, NO!" Dustil leapt in front of her and barely deflected the lightsaber spinning toward Case's throat. He Pushed Melan halfway across the cave. The girl shrieked, and there was nothing Human about the sound.

"You will see me again, Revan!" she screamed, then turned and ran out the door.

Dustil started to go after her, but Case held his arm. He glared at her. "What are you doing? We can catch her!"

The walls around them began to shake. "She's pulling down the Academy! We have to get out while we still can!" Dust rained down on them as they dashed for the door. A column near the door rocked off its pedestal with a groan and tumbled toward them. Iman threw up his hand and stopped it half a meter from their heads.

"Go!" he shouted. "I cannot hold it forever!"

Dustil and Case ducked around him and out the door. Case turned back and saw that Iman was still inside. "Iman!" she shouted, pulling desperately at her missing Force powers. She couldn't hold the column for him. The Stasis field around the stone flickered, and it crashed to the ground. "Iman!" she shouted again. She started to go back, but Dustil put his hand on her shoulder.

He shook his head. "He's joined the Force."

Case choked back a sob. Iman's sacrifice could not be squandered now. "We need to get a ship off-planet," she said finally, and started back toward Dreshdae. Now that the battle adrenaline was gone, she could feel exhaustion soaking her bones. The door was open and the crowd at the Drunk Side was staring across the rockfield wonderingly.

"We need to go to Telos," Dustil said.

Case shook her head. "No, you must go to Coruscant immediately to tell the Council about what happened here. Melan, or whatever she's calling herself now, will only become a greater threat as her hunger grows, and the Jedi have to be ready." They pushed through the murmuring crowd at the door and into the cool air of the Czerka station.

Case hadn't told Dustil that she would not be joining him. The call of the Unknown Regions was pulling at her strongly, and she had to force herself not to run for the nearest ship. Lost in her own thoughts, she realized she was walking by herself. She stopped and saw Dustil pull a Rodian woman aside and whisper something to her. The woman nodded gravely and hugged Dustil, tears pouring from her large eyes. Dustil held her for a long moment, then walked away.

He stopped in front of her. "Case." Case realized with surprise that he was using her real name, and that he had when he saved her from Melan. "We have to go to Telos first. You need to go to Telos."

"No, Dustil, I told you—"

"It's Father. He's dying."

Case's heart stopped for a second. "What—how do you know?"

Dustil pushed his hair away from his eyes in a familiar gesture. "I saw him in the pool at the cave. I can't Heal, Case, I don't know how. I'm not Light enough to do it. You're the only one who can save him."

She stared at the ground. "No, I can't, there must be some other way—" If she went back, she didn't know how she would be able to leave again. _And he hates you, remember?_

"Please, Case. If you love him, please."

Case looked up into the face of the young man in front of her, who looked both like and unlike his father. She nodded.


	11. Chapter 10

**TEN**

Mission was beginning to think that no one would ever take out the trash. She was crouched on a ledge above the garbage bay in the Republic station and had been there for sixteen hours. The wet collection of food scraps, papers, and she didn't want to think about what else was slowly rising toward the ledge, but no one seemed inclined to do anything about it. She wasn't sure how much longer she could survive down here.

Mission had realized that things were about to go badly in Wann's office and snuck away before they did. She knew Carth could take care of himself and Jan, and it wouldn't do them any good to all be trapped in a holding cell somewhere. She used an old trick she'd learned on Taris to avoid detection—garbage dumps put off enough heat to camouflage your heat signature. So she dove down the first disposal chute she found and crawled up to the ledge to wait for them to decide she'd left the station and stop looking for her. She had her canteen and a couple of ration bars with her, so it was just a matter of ignoring the pain in her shoulders and knees and waiting it out. But now it had been well over half a day and no one had come to activate the disposal. She couldn't get back up the chute, but the bay had a door that the disposer had to manually open to flush the refuse, and Mission knew she could sneak by with her stealth belt. If someone ever came.

Something moved in the disgusting mess below her, and Mission pushed herself farther toward the wall. She'd heard rumors of monsters in garbage bays, but she thought they were just stories Griff made up to keep her out of them. Just as she was contemplating whether the monster had tentacles that could reach her ledge, a klaxon sounded and the door below her slid aside. With a sigh of relief, Mission swung down off the ledge and onto the walkway that ran across the bay. Two young men in garish Republic uniforms were standing outside the doorway.

"Okay, Restoog, this is your job for the next quarter," the slightly older one was saying to the younger. He laughed. "I'm glad we got a new crop of ensigns from the Academy."

The younger one grumbled good naturedly and set the flash activator that would turn all of the garbage into ash. Mission started to creep past them, taking care to set her footfalls precisely so they would make no sound. Suddenly, the garbage behind her disintegrated with a booming puff, and Mission jumped before she could stop herself. The tip of her lekku brushed the younger soldier's arm.

He jerked around. "What was that?"

"What was what?" the older soldier asked. "Look, just finish the cleanup so we can close this thing. It reeks like a rancor in there."

Mission crouched next to the door across the hall. She hoped they didn't start a search.

Restoog shook his head. "Must have been imagining it. I thought someone walked by me for a second. It could have been that Twi'lek we've been looking for."

"What, do you think she hung out in the garbage bay all day? You haven't been around enough Twi'leks—they're a fussy bunch, especially the females. No, she's probably back at Marne by now, or if Onasi is any indication, half dead."

Mission clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. What did they mean? She knew Carth hadn't looked right when they ran into him at Marne. But half dead?

Restoog finished his work and closed the doors. He and the older officer began walking away. They didn't look in Mission's direction. "It's too bad about Captain Onasi," he said. "Did you know he wiped out a whole squadron of Mandies during the war with half a turret gun and no backup? He's the whole reason I joined the Fleet. He really ought to go down in battle, not from some colonial flu." They turned a corner and out of earshot.

Mission got to her feet and headed the opposite way from the two soldiers. If Carth was sick, then they'd have him at the infirmary, right? Not the holding cells. But Wann was getting pretty mad when she left, so maybe he'd take them to the holding cells and just let a medtech come see them. Or maybe— Mission shook her head. She just had to pick a place and start there. She reached an intersection checked her options. Judging from the smells, left was the mess hall. She'd come from straight ahead before, so that just left right. She turned that way and walked for a good half klick before she saw the softly glowing Basic glyphs for the infirmary.

She had to flicker off her belt for just a second to get the door reader to see her and swish open. She ducked inside, vibroblade ready in case she was spotted. But the receptionist was arguing with an Ithorian and didn't see her.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot let you see anyone in quarantine," the woman was explaining with a firm look on her face. Mission wouldn't want to cross the woman.

The Ithorian warbled something in its own language, but the receptionist cut it off.

"I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. If you do not need medical attention, please leave."

Mission started to slide back toward the interior of the infirmary. How many people could possibly be in quarantine—Carth and Jan had to be there. She had passed the Ithorian, who still hadn't left, when it looked directly at her.

"Follow me out, herdling," it warbled in Basic.

Mission's hand flew to her belt, thinking that she had stupidly turned it off, but she was still invisible. The receptionist had gone back to reading a datapad and looking stern. How could the Ithorian see her? She decided to ignore it and continue back.

"I will help you," it said, still looking at her.

The receptionist looked up, irritated. "Are you trying to bribe me now? Don't make me call security."

Mission looked at the doorway to the interior of the infirmary and was disheartened to see that it required a passcard. She might be able to crack it eventually, but it would take hours and wasn't exactly quiet work. Someone would find her, and then what good would she be to Carth and Jan? She looked back, and the Ithorian was still waiting for her, now standing just outside the door. She cocked her head, puzzled as to why the Ithorian was standing so close to the entrance. Then she realized. It was making sure the door stayed open for her. So she wouldn't have to turn off her stealth generator.

She was about to turn and go with the large alien when she heard the whoosh of a change in air pressure and saw the door to the interior opening. Someone was coming out from the inside. A man in full quarantine garb came out, pulling off his mask as he came. The receptionist turned and ran a quick hand over the back of her hair, a smile spreading across her face. She almost looked pretty with that smile.

"Hello, Garon," she said.

Garon returned her smile and started toward her. Now was her chance. Mission ran full out and slid her body sideways through the door just as it was closing. She stifled a yelp as the door caught her booted heel. That was going to hurt later.

The interior of the infirmary was cooler than the base and everything was suffused with a bluish glow. The lights above her head buzzed quietly. Men and women in various states of protection against germs walked the main thoroughfare, speaking quietly to each other and to the corders they carried. Mission was relieved to find that there was plenty of signage. Right to go to the surgery centers and the visiting area. Left to go to the labs and the quarantine cells. She headed left and had to remember to keep stepping out of the way of busy medtechs who couldn't see her.

She finally got to the row of quarantine cells after waiting what seemed like forever for someone to come out of the room and activate the door. She ducked inside and looked down the row of forcefielded doorways. In the one farthest to the back, she could see a shadow pacing back and forth. The other cells were empty. Mission ran back to the cell and saw Jan pacing with a vaguely anxious expression on his face. Carth was on the bench at the back of the cell, leaning against the side wall.

Mission looked at the ceiling and didn't see any cameras or corders for the exterior of the cell. She turned off her stealth field. "Jan!" she called.

He looked up and a huge grin spread across his face. "Mission! I thought they must have caught you by now!"

Carth smiled. "Hey, kid. I knew you'd come through for us." His voice was husky and he started to cough. Mission glanced over at Jan, alarmed, and saw the same quiet worry on his face that he'd had when she came in.

Carth's coughing finally subsided, but he looked drained and shaky afterward. Mission was shocked to see some streaks of gray in his dark hair. The last time she'd seen someone look this bad was when Case got scratched by a rakghoul on Taris and she and Big Z and Carth had to find the serum. And she'd almost died then. Maybe the soldiers outside the refuse bay hadn't been exaggerating.

"Carth--" she ventured.

He waved his hand dismissively. "It's not important. Listen to me." There was no arguing with his tone. "The medtech who just left is the last person who will be in this sector overnight. You should be able to get out of the infirmary without anyone seeing you. Our speeder should be somewhere in the landing bay—take it and get to Marne as soon as possible. If Wann is trying to scare people off the planet, he'll make sure Diplomacy sends transport vehicles to get people off. You have to make sure everyone leaves before their vaccine deactivate. I think Doctor Coran has that deactivation code. You don't have much time."

"But we'll just be doing what they want!" Jan protested. "We're asking people to give up their homes, their lives!"

Carth nodded seriously. "I know, Jan. Believe me, I don't like the idea of the Ithorians getting our planet any more than you do. But Telos is just a place on a starmap. If we can save the people, we've saved the planet."

Jan glowered for another moment, then reluctantly nodded. "I guess we can't let everyone get the virus."

"Good. Now get to Marne as soon as you can and make sure everyone gets off—the separatists, too, if you can." Carth paused, out of breath. "As soon as you start the evacuation, make sure you get on a transport. I want the two of you off this planet as soon as possible."

"What do you mean, the two of us? You're coming with us! I can crack this forcefield with one hand tied behind my back!"

Jan exchanged a glance with Carth. "It's just you and me, Mission." Jan's face was pink even through the blue haze of the forcefield.

Mission suddenly realized what they both weren't saying, and it was like someone had punched her in the gut. "No!" she cried, not caring who might hear through the doors. "You're not going to die, Carth, you can't!"

"Mission—" he began.

"No! I don't want to hear it! You might not be able to come with us now, but I'm coming back for you before I leave the planet. You've never left a soldier behind! That's what you said! And I ain't gonna, either!"

Carth smiled a little, and almost looked like his old self. "I don't think I've ever stopped you from doing anything, Mission. But I need you to do this for me first."

She'd go to Marne for Carth's sake, but he was as crazy as Jolee if he thought she wasn't coming back here. "Okay, let me get this field down. Stand back."

The lock for the quarantine cell was almost embarrassingly easy to break, and the blue field dropped with a hum. Mission half expected an alarm to go off, but nothing happened. It was like they didn't really care whether the quarantine held. Or, she thought darkly, maybe they just didn't think the quarantined people would have the strength to leave even if they could.

Jan was out of the cell in a second and grabbed her spike to set to work on the monitoring bracelet locked around his wrist. Mission hesitated only a moment before flinging herself into Carth's arms and hugging him as tightly as she dared without making him cough. She didn't care that she looked like a baby in front of Jan. She wanted to remember what this was like, just in case—

Carth hugged her back while Jan pointedly looked the other direction and fiddled with his bracelet. "Be careful, Mission, please?" he asked. Mission could hear his breath rattle ominously in his chest.

"I'm coming back, okay? I ain't leaving this rock without you. Case would slice me into a zillion parts."

Carth gently pushed her away and held her at arms' length. He looked hard at her through dark-smudged eyes. "Tell Case and Dustil that I love them." He smiled. "And tell Case that I finally realized what she was up to on Coruscant. She couldn't fool me forever."

Jan's bracelet finally popped and clattered to the floor. It was time to go. She nodded and turned away.

"And Mission—" Carth called after her.

She turned back. "Yeah?"

"I love you, too. You know that, right? I can't speak Shyriiwook, but I think the phrase is daughter-of-my-heart."

She smiled and gave him a mock salute. "Back at you, geezer. I'll be back before you know it."

And with that, she dashed out the door, Jan on her heels. She didn't want Carth to see the tears streaming down her face.

* * *

They didn't run into any problems sneaking their speeder out of the bay, but it was tense, nerve-wracking work. Mission dozed off almost as soon as they got the speeder off base property and out to the plains to Marne. She hadn't had more than a quick couple of minutes since the night of the party in Marne. Her dreams were confusing tangles of images, from Taris, from the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine, even Kashyyyk. The vague images always seemed. . .happy, or at least peaceful. Even when life clearly was not.

She blinked slowly awake to find her right lekku painfully pinched between her shoulder and the windowshield of the speeder. She yawned and stretched, wincing at the pinprickles of sensation from her sleeping headtail. Jan was driving, mouth set in a grim line as he raced toward the settlement. Mission felt a twinge of embarrassment that she had fallen asleep when they had such a desperate task in front of them.

"How close are we?" she asked.

He glanced at her, expression unchanged. "Twenty minutes, probably. Do you need something to eat or drink? I guess you were hiding somewhere in the base for a long time."

Mission was suddenly conscious of the smell wafting up from her clothes. "Oh, crap!" she exclaimed. "I really stink, don't I?"

"Don't worry, I can breathe through my mouth."

Mission's face turned hot. She opened her mouth to protest but the smile hovering around Jan's eyes stopped her. He was teasing her. Though, sniffing her sleeve, she _did_ smell. She abruptly changed the subject. "You're not feeling sick, are you? From the virus, I mean."

The grim expression settled back onto Jan's face. "I think my vaccine is fine. For now." His expression darkened. "They weren't even trying to help him at the base—they just put us in that cell and then pretended we weren't there, even when he couldn't stop coughing one time for almost half an hour. All I could do was watch and shout for help that didn't come. I don't think they're even looking for a cure."

"They're trying to scare people into leaving—if people start dying, they'll stop putting up a fight and just go." Mission wasn't surprised that Wann was such a bad guy—he'd been awfully shady about the kolto plant on Manaan. But Jan obviously felt like his government had betrayed him. He didn't volunteer any further conversation, just stared ahead and kept his hands hard around the throttle controls.

It was just starting to get light when Marne appeared as a smudge on the horizon. There was something odd about its profile. Mission pulled the binocs out from under her seat and focused on the city. "Oh, no," she whispered.

Jan looked at her sharply. "What? What's wrong?"

Mission brought the binocs down. "Something's on fire at the city. Something big."

Jan cursed and tried to make the speeder go faster. Mission unstrapped her vibroblades and got them ready. She tried not to think about all the people she'd made friends with in their weeks at the settlement.

She knew things were bad when she saw the city gates hanging from their hinges, leaving the city wide open. Beat-up speeders were tossed around the gates like dice. The smoke she had seen came from something inside the city gates.

Jan slid the speeder to a stop and was running toward the settlement before Mission could even get to the ground. His blaster had been confiscated at the base, so he wasn't even holding a weapon. Mission raced after him. "Jan, wait!" she shouted.

She ducked around the broken gates and gasped. The center square looked like a gang war about to happen. An angry crowd of citizens faced off against a handful of Ithorians and the town council. Mission thought she recognized the Ithorian who had spoken to her at the Infirmary, but it was hard to tell individuals among the big creatures. She looked for Jan and saw him at the edge of the citizen group.

Dr. Coran's infirmary was on fire. Someone must have thrown some heavy artillery to catch the titansteel roof tiles on fire. Mission had helped nail those tiles herself only a week ago, when the whole town had come together to put up the new infirmary. She saw firebrands and grenades in the hands of a few citizens and knew that they had done it themselves. And, judging by the terrified and angry looks on the settlers' faces, they already knew about the virus.

The director, Mitch Ando, came out in front of the Ithorians and raised his hands to the crowd. "Citizens, please, don't do this! No one is to blame for the virus! We can overcome this like we did before. Remember everything we've gone through." He looked like he was trying and utterly failing to be reassuring.

A man in the crowd with unkempt hair and red-rimmed eyes surged forward and had to be restrained by his neighbors. "They're all dead, Mitch! My whole family! I dug three graves last night, and now I hear that those _animals_," he pointed at the four Ithorians, "did this! They're trying to kill us and take our land! You can't, it's all I have now—" he broke off, sobbing. The crowd's murmurs around him got louder and angrier. Mission knew from the gang wars on Taris that things were seconds away from blowing.

"It's not the Ithorians, it's the Republic that's doing this." A new voice rose above the muttering crowd. "Who do you think let the Ithorians down here? How do you think they knew how to kill us? It's the government that's profiting from the virus!"

Mission turned and saw a raggedly-dressed Jan standing with a group of Humans near the broken city walls, but that didn't make any sense. She looked quickly back, and Jan was still standing with the citizens, now staring with wide eyes at the speaker. She realized suddenly that the speaker must be Jirin. On closer inspection, she could see that his poorly mended jacket and shirt concealed heavy chest armor. He was holding a blaster rifle in his right hand like he was used to handling one. The crowd around him was similarly armed.

"Do you all want to die like Dano'sfamily? We have to stop the Republic now!" he shouted.

Mission had a bad feeling about this. The crowd had heard Jirin's words, and the already dangerous feel turned abruptly darker. Jan, standing weaponless on the side of the crowd, was nodding with the rest of them. It was one thing to hate the Ithorians, but it was another thing altogether if the Republic itself had turned against them. This confrontation would turn into a revolution. Or, as soon as someone called out the Fleet, a massacre. She didn't know why Jirin's group was egging on the crowd, but the results wouldn't be good.

She had to do something. "No!" she shouted, surprising all three crowds and herself. She hastily sheathed her vibroblades and held up her weaponless hands. "Violence isn't going to solve anything, people! We just have to get off the planet before the vaccines deactivate." Mission, who knew herself to be as Force-free as you could be, could actually feel the mood of the crowd lighten a bit. Maybe she could keep this from getting out of control.

"Oh, sure, you're going to listen to the Twi'lek?" Jirin sneered, and Mission again had to remind herself that it wasn't Jan. "She and that Republic officer killed five of our group on their way here! And think about it, when did the virus get worse? It was right after the two of them got here! They're working for the Republic!"

Mission suddenly felt every eye on her, and was terrifyingly conscious of the fact that they were all Human and she was not. The brave words she'd planned in her head dried up and she couldn't force them out. The crowd started muttering again.

"You're wrong, Jirin," a voice said from the crowd. Jan walked toward Mission, and her knees almost went out in relief. She wasn't alone. "Mission didn't do this. She helped us build that infirmary. She helped me tend the hifa. Captain Onasi is one of us, or don't you remember? He dug through the rubble like we all did, looking for his family after the attack. He served with our father in the Republic Fleet and kept the Mandalorians from killing all of us. Don't blame them now for what's happened." Jan never raised his voice, never shouted to the crowd, but his words carried and the crowd quieted.

Suddenly, a single blaster bolt rang out from somewhere. She didn't know which group had fired first, but it was all the excuse anyone needed to attack. Mission instinctively ducked, and the three groups fell on each other with blades and blasters.

Jan grabbed her arm. "We have to keep them from killing the Ithorians!" he shouted. "They'll all be killed if we don't stop them!"

Mission handed him her shock stick. "Here, you can stun people with this." He disappeared into the crowd. Mission couldn't believe she was helping protect the bastards who had made Carth sick, but she knew Jan was right—the mob wasn't rational. The Republic courts would put everyone on a prison planet for treason if the crowd wasn't stopped. Mission rummaged through her carrysack, one eye on the dusty battle ahead of her, and pulled out a concussion grenade.

"No, you don't!" one of Jirin's group, a woman, shouted, and Mission felt a sudden pain in her left shoulder before it went abruptly numb. She smelled burnt nerfhide and flesh. The woman was aiming her blaster again, and Mission was exposed against the city wall.

A dart flew from the left and hit the woman in the side. She clutched at it, then abruptly fell over. Mission saw an Ithorian holding a dartgun. It nodded gravely to her and turned back to the crowd. Mission flung her grenade toward the center of the mass of people and ran the other direction. The boom flipped her off her feet anyway, and she landed head-first in a pile of building supplies. She lay there for a long minute, staring fuzzily at hypospanners and autowelders, before pushing herself up with her right arm. Her left arm was starting to hurt, but she felt curiously disassociated from the pain, as though she was just observing someone else. She thought that was probably a bad sign.

The grenade had knocked several of the crowd down, and they seemed to have lost some of their intensity when they got back up. They were starting to mill around, looking confused. Jirin's group had backed up Dr. Coran and Director Ando to the smoking wall of the infirmary. Jan and an Ithorian were standing with them. Dr. Coran had only a laser scalpel and Jan and Ando had only shock sticks to defend themselves. Mission raced over, vibroblade out, and slashed at the waist of the nearest attacker. It was Jirin. He clutched his side and his blaster rifle fell from his hands. One of his companions raised his own blade above her head, and Mission knew she was going to die.

She heard several loud pops behind her, and the air suddenly filled with greenish smoke. The shadow of a shuttle covered the square. _Gas bombs_, she thought, just before everything went black.


	12. Chapter 11

**ELEVEN**

Mission woke to a headache and a dull pain in her left shoulder. _I hope this isn't the afterlife_. She opened her eyes cautiously and found herself in a dimly lit cargo hold with a large group of others. They must have been all put on the Republic shuttle after the ship knocked the crowd out. She tried to stand and discovered binders around her ankles and wrists.

"Hey!" She looked around and found herself next to Jan, Jirin, and the rest of Jirin's group. The director, doctor, and Ithorians were nowhere to be seen. Jan was just coming around, blinking slowly and looking confusedly about the cargo hold. There didn't seem to be any guards or anyone official anywhere nearby. She struggled fruitlessly against the binders. "I'm one of the good guys!" she shouted to no one in particular.

"Mission, are you okay?" Jan asked finally. He had two black eyes and a split lip, and bore more than a passing resemblance to a wanted criminal from the newsvids.

Mission craned her neck around and saw a kolto patch on her shoulder. She couldn't move it much because of the binders, and it still hurt, but it seemed to be working. "Yeah, except I'm tied up like a criminal."

Jan pushed himself awkwardly into a sitting position. "I guess they couldn't tell who was dangerous and who wasn't, so they're just gonna keep us all locked up until they figure it out."

Jirin stirred beside them. Now that Mission could see them both up close, she could tell differences in the cut of their hair and the hardness of their expressions, but the twins were remarkable similar. The closest Mission had ever been to twins before were a couple of Twi'lek bounty hunters who'd tried to convince her to go into the business with them on Taris. She'd never seen Human twins.

Jirin experimentally tugged at his binders, eyes still closed, then gave up and looked around. He had the decency to color a little when he saw he was between Mission and Jan.

Jan swung himself around and delivered a solid kick with both feet to Jirin's chest. Jirin gasped and fell into Mission, who shoved him forward again with her shoulder. A little blood leaked through the kolto patch along his waist.

"You schutta!" Jan growled. "Everyone thought you were dead, everyone but me, and I figured there had to be some good reason why you never sent me a message. I thought the Sith had gotten you or you'd been sold to slavers, but you were on Telos the whole time, trying to undermine the whole colony!"

Jirin got his breath back and stared across the hold for a long moment. "They meant to take you, you know," he said finally.

"What?"

"They meant to take you. You were always the braver one, the stronger one, and the separatists wanted you, not me. They couldn't tell us apart in the field and grabbed the wrong one. But I talked them into not killing me and eventually proved that I was worth keeping."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Did you really want all of our friends, our _mother_, to be sent to a prison planet for treason?" Jan's face had the same look it had when he'd asked her if Dustil had really been a Sith.

Jirin shook his head fiercely. "Of course not! But we couldn't just let that Repubic scum take our planet and pretend like they weren't! They've killed Telos and we're all going to be homeless unless we do something about it. We were trying to do something about it when you and your Twi'lek girlfriend got in the way."

"What, by getting the crowd to kill Mission? I guess you needed a reason to get on the newsvids!"

Jirin looked away.

"You're no brother of mine, Jirin," Jan said quietly, a terribly hard look in his eyes.

"Jan—" Mission didn't know what to say, and finally decided not to say anything. She knew what it felt like to be betrayed by your sibling, and she knew nothing she said would make any difference right now. Later, maybe.

They sat in awkward silence for another couple of hours while the rest of the crowd slowly woke up and started to get restless. Finally, a Republic official of some sort came into the room with a datapad in hand. His hair was too long for the Fleet, and it was damp around his ears. He hit a button on the datapad and everyone's binders released. Mission gratefully rubbed her wrists and ankles.

The official rubbed the back of his neck and then began reading quickly from his datapad. "Er, people of Marne, please be patient as we work out your new arrangements. The Resettlement Committee has secured your possessions from your homes and will return them to you. You will be provided quarters here until your resettlement packages have been processed. Those of you not found to be ineligible for reason of crimes committed against the government will be allocated either fifty square klicks of farmland on Tavin VI or the equivalent value of credits and a transport voucher to the destination of your choice. If you have any questions, resettlement counselors will be available between the hours of—" he continued on with a list of protocol and requests that Mission tuned out. Telos was no longer these people's home. She thought of the waving fields of pink hifa and was glad Jan had taken her there.

There was some crying and discontented muttering around her, but nothing like what had happened in the square. Mission thought for a wild moment that they were all still sedated, but she didn't feel sluggish. She realized it was probably just the shock of their homes being lost, and wondered how this nervous official would keep everyone in line later.

"Mission Vao—" the official called, looking around. "Is there a Mission Vao here?"

Mission jumped to her feet. "Here," she called.

The official consulted his datapad again. "Please come with me. Everyone else, there is food and water available in the back of the cargo hold, and your counselors will be with you shortly."

Mission looked at Jan. "Wanna come?"

He had been craning his neck, looking for someone, and finally waved to his mother. She waved back, then started running toward Jirin. Jirin slowly got to his feet and went to her. Jan turned his back. "Yeah, let's go."

They wound their way through the crowded hold and out the large double doors. The official was waiting for them outside. "Miss Vao, I'm Horva Vandenhol with Republic Disaster Relief." He looked suspiciously at Jan. "Who are you?" he asked.

Jan put an arm across Mission's shoulder. She started at the unexpected gesture but didn't shrug out of it. Jan squeezed her shoulder once in warning and then winked at the guard. "I'm Jan. Where she goes, I go." His voice was full of innuendo.

Vandenhol smiled knowingly. "Right, then. This way." He turned and started up the long hallway.

Jan quickly dropped his arm from her shoulder. "Sorry," he whispered. "I'll ask before I do that next time." Mission looked at him appraisingly and he smiled. She sort of liked the funny feeling in her stomach when he did that.

Mission was so busy trying to recollect her thoughts that she almost missed the infirmary as they passed it. "Hey, wait a minute!" she called to the official ahead of them. "The infirmary's right here."

He turned with an irritated expression on his face. He looked down at the datapad and gestured it toward them. "This says you're supposed to go to the Captain's office."

Mission was confused. Just how long had she been out, anyway? Had they been transported back to the base already? "Captain Onasi?" she ventured.

"Who? No, Captain Brant. She's in charge of Citadel Station until the reconstruction begins."

Her knees suddenly felt like water and she almost sat down right in the hallway. Jan's hand was under her elbow. "Wha—what do you mean, Citadel Station?" she asked. "I thought we were on a shuttle! Where are we? Where's Carth?"

Jan, looking almost as pale as she felt, elaborated. "Captain Carth Onasi of the Republic Fleet, sir. We were all at the Republic base on Telos before the. . .disturbance at Marne."

Vandenhol shook his head. "Telos has been evacuated. There's a Class I virus loose down there—everyone who didn't have it was removed here to Citadel Station for relocation. Did your friend have the virus?"

"Yes, but—"

"Oh." The official rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm afraid that they're expecting no survivors."

Mission was suddenly filled with outrage at this flunky who didn't give a damn about Carth. She strode toward the man, finger pointed. "You find me someone to take me down there, right now."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but that's not authorized. The planet has been evacuated—"

"I don't give a damn about your damn evacuation! You get me off this station or I'll steal a ship and do it myself."

She'd gone too far. Vandenhol drew himself up haughtily. "Miss Vao, I'm afraid you don't have any authority here. You're classified in our records as an orphaned minor who has now directly threatened government property in the presence of a government witness. I will recommend to Captain Brant that you be detained for questioning."

"Look, you son of a schutta," Jan began, but an Ithorian entered the hall before he could finish his sentence. The Ithorian warbled something to the official.

The man looked surprised. "What? I'm afraid I don't speak—"

The Ithorian switched to Basic. "The herdlings will come with me. The Ithorian consulate has extended its diplomatic immunity to these two."

Vandenhol punched several items into his datapad and finally looked up, scowling. "Certainly, Ambassador Habat. I will leave Miss Vao and her companion with you and report to Captain Brant what has occurred." He spun on his heel and marched stiffly away without looking back at them.

Mission exchanged glances with Jan. They were alone with the Ithorian. "Yeah?" she asked it.

"I told you I would help you, herdling. Please, come with me." It started down the cross hallway. Mission realized that this was the same creature who had spoken to her in the infirmary on Telos. She shrugged and followed it. She didn't really know how to fly a shuttle, so she might as well see if the big alien could help her get Carth off the planet.

Just when she thought they'd be walking all day, the Ithorian waved its hand in front of a panel, and a door opened. Mission ducked inside, and her jaw dropped. Instead of the standard sterile guest quarters that she was used to, the enormous room was draped in ferns and plants of every color. Greenish-blue grass crunched lightly under her boots. Mission turned and saw that she was leaving distinct footprints in the groundcover. The air smelled like—air, not the recycled stuff she was used to breathing. Ithorians were roaming about, some holding tubes and other equipment, others simply reading datapads or looking at the scenery as they walked.

She slowly circled, taking in the view. A haln bird streaked by her head, its long purple feathers trailing behind it. "Hey, I thought those were extinct!" she exclaimed. Jan was a few meters away from her and also staring around in awe.

The Ithorian smiled, or at least, that's what she thought it was doing. It nodded its large head vigorously. "We found six left on Deralia and cloned them in our laboratory. Now there are several hundred."

"But why do that?"

The Ithorian cocked its head at her. "It is what we do, herdling," it said, as though that explained everything. It went on, "My name is Chodo Habat. How does your herd know you?"

"My name's Mission Vao, and my herd knows I'm the blue one with the big mouth. This is Jan Valenta. He's much less loud." Her smile faltered and she remembered that her herd was why she was here in the first place. "Why did you say you would help me? Do you know Carth? Is he okay? How do we get back to the planet to get him? What's happening to the planet?"

Habat blinked slowly and puffed a few times. "Slow, herdling. Your herd leader is very ill, with a virus I am afraid we created here."

Mission gaped at the alien. She knew the Ithorians were involved, but actually _created _the virus? "Why would you do that? Who do you think gave you the right—"

Habat continued as though she hadn't interrupted him. "We created the virus to use after all the Humans left the planet. You see, before we can begin repairing Telos, we must strip away the parts that continue to thrive. It is confusing for the Humans on the planet, we know, but the few remaining habitable areas prevent us from starting anew. We will make no progress creating life until all the life is gone."

Mission darted a glance at the open door. She didn't realize she'd be surrounded by genocidal maniacs when she followed the alien. "Where do you get off, deciding who lives and who dies?"

Habat moved in a way that was probably a shrug. "Even creation requires choices. The virus was not meant to be released until we had safely transported the Humans away. It was for animals and plants only. We would wait for a hundred years, if necessary, to avoid taking sentient life." His grayish skin darkened. "But the Human Diplomatic Herd was impatient and planted the virus in all of the village herds. We protested, but did not realize that the Diplomatic Herd would actually deactivate any of the vaccines. Even the ten percent deactivation was too many. And though we will get the planet sooner because of it, we mourn the loss of sentient life."

"Loss of life?" Mission squeaked. "Does that mean there's no cure? What about Carth?"

The Ithorian put a large hand on the top of her head. "He will already have joined the Life Force by the time we could return to the planet. We are sorry for you, herdling. We will leave you alone for now. Stay here as long as you wish." The alien loped away.

Mission's knees did give out then, and she found herself sitting in the grass, sobbing into Jan's shoulder. _Daughter-of-my-heart_, he'd said. And now he was gone. Even with Jan's arms around her, she felt completely alone.

* * *

Dustil flipped the thin holodisc over his thumb and watched it spin lightly in the air before dropping back to his thumb. After a few runs of this, he let it spin high and then tried to freeze it with Force. He was still embarrassingly poor at Stasis, and usually the thing just flickered pink for a second before falling back to his hand. He sighed finally and flipped it up into a Whirlwind to let it spin while he rubbed his eyes. He was giving himself a headache.

He and Case had found a pilot to bribe at the Korriban port and persuaded him to deviate from his route to Nar Shaddaa to drop them off at Telos. The man, who was ostensibly transporting minerals but was almost certainly smuggling spice, flew like someone was chasing him and never let his hand stray far from his blasters. He wouldn't even tell them his name. Dustil didn't like the shadows in the man's eyes or the lust he projected at Case, and was glad when she appropriated the only cabin and locked herself in. Dustil himself tried to keep out of the pilot's way, which meant he spent most of his time in a corner of the cargo bay, trying to keep himself occupied.

He watched the holodisc spin and thought again about the Echani woman who had given it to him. _You could be one, I think_. An assassin. Dustil knew, somehow, in the same way that he knew that he could touch the Force, that he would be good at the job. He had been near the top of his class at the Sith Academy, and he might have gotten tapped for the job anyway if he had stayed. But he thought about the way his father had looked at him on Korriban, the terrible joy at finding him that he had been obviously trying to hide. The things Dustil had said to him made his face hot. If Dustil went Dark again, he would never be able to face his father. But he was more certain every day that he couldn't go back to the Jedi Academy. All the enforced calm, the grandeur—he already felt like he might suffocate there. Could you fall to the Dark side just because you didn't know what else to do?

He'd have to make a decision at Telos after. . .after whatever happened to his father. He pushed down the fear that made him want to take control of the ship and _make it_ go faster somehow. Surely they would get there in time. After that, he would contact the woman with the holodisc or not.

"You're a Jedi." A voice interrupted his thoughts, and it was not a question.

Dustil snatched the holodisc out of the air and shoved it quickly into his pocket. He scrambled to his feet to see their pilot leaning in the doorway to the crowded cargo hold. The man's voice was neutral, but Dustil could see hints of red flickering around the edges of the man's gray aura.

Dustil decided to bluff. "I'm wearing a Korriban Academy uniform; what do you think?"

"Right, so you _must_ be Sith." The man continued to stand there, glowering at him. He was older than Dustil and younger than Case. Dustil got the sense that he had seen a lot of battle, but he didn't hold himself like a soldier.

Dustil tried to walk around the pilot, but he casually stretched his arm across the doorway and blocked the exit. Dustil's fingers twitched involuntarily toward his lightsaber. The man showed his teeth in a hard grin.

Dustil sighed. "What do you want?"

The pilot shrugged. "Saw you playing with that holodisc--looks like something I've seen before. Can I see it?"

Dustil flushed. He didn't want anyone to know he had the disc. "It's none of your business. You won't even tell us what your name is, and now you want to look at my personal stuff?"

The man narrowed his eyes, and a shiver ran down Dustil's spine. He reached out his Force senses to the pilot's mind and was rebuffed by a string of hyperspace coordinates. While Dustil was puzzling out what that meant, the pilot darted forward with surprising speed and snatched the holodisc out of his pocket.

"Hey!" Without thinking, Dustil had his lightsaber out and activated. The man didn't even flinch at the red glow.

"Come on, kid, we both know you're not going to hurt me with that thing. Put it away before you ruin my cargo."

"Give it back," Dustil growled.

The pilot looked closely at the holodisc, then flipped it back to Dustil. He caught it in Stasis between them and yanked it out of the air. He held it clenched in his hand.

The pilot grinned his humorless smile again. "See, kid, I knew you could freeze things if you really tried hard enough. What is it you Jedi call it? Stasis?"

"I told you, I'm not a Jedi. What do you know about them, anyway?"

"Let's just say they used to be. . .an occupational hazard of mine," he said, turning away and walking toward the bridge. "We're dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes." He stopped halfway there and turned to face Dustil again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll destroy that holodisc before you're tempted to contact them." Dustil felt a spike of strong emotion—regretshamefear—from the man before it was sharply snuffed out. "The Assassin Corps is no place for you." With that, he walked into the bridge and closed the door.

Dustil stared after the man, trying to figure out what their conversation had meant. How did their pilot know what was on the holodisc? Surely he would have killed them both already if he were himself an assassin. He remembered the Echani woman had been looking for someone. _I think he may have left the profession_, she'd said. _He was one of our best_. Dustil looked at the holodisc in his palm for another long moment before putting it back in his pocket.

He went to the solitary cabin and knocked. There was no response. Dustil knocked again, harder. "Case? We're just about there. You might want to get ready." Still no answer from behind the door.

Muttering a curse at the trouble she was putting him to, Dustil pulled out a spike and set to work on the door lock. He wasn't nearly as good at this as others in his class, but it was a simple lock. The door swished open after just a few minutes.

Case was sitting upright on her bunk, legs crossed and palms resting on her knees. Her eyes were closed. Dustil was again surprised to see a complete lack of aura around her—to his Force senses, she wasn't even there. "Case?" he ventured again.

Case opened her eyes slowly. "I can't reach it," she said in a low voice that he had to strain to hear.

"Reach what?"

"The Force, boy!" she snapped. She glared at him from under her shaggy hair.

Dustil glared back at her. "If you want me to read your thoughts, just let me know. I'll stop respecting your privacy."

Dustil thought she almost smiled for just a second before she sighed and stretched her legs. "Sorry. It's just so damn frustrating to know it's there—I can see it right there in front of me—and not be able to touch it. Even after—after the Council changed me, and I didn't know that I could use the Force, I could still feel it. And now I can't even do that."

Dustil felt a little sympathy for the woman, though he'd feel more if she hadn't done it to herself. Her behavior also tightened the knot in his gut when he thought about Telos. He'd hoped that four days alone in her room would snap her out of whatever kind of funk she'd put herself in, but that obviously hadn't happened. If she couldn't touch the Force, then she couldn't Heal, and if she couldn't Heal. . .he cut off that line of thought.

The ship swayed slightly as they dropped smoothly out of hyperspace. Whatever sociopathic tendencies their pilot had, he could at least fly the ship. Dustil clenched and unclenched his jaw, saying finally, "There's a bunch of medpacs in the cargo hold. I guess we'd better take them with us." He turned away quickly but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes.

By the time he'd gathered up the medpacs, the ship was noticeably slowing. Dustil went back up toward the bridge and was glad to see that Case looked a little more like herself. Her aura was still blank but she'd strapped her lightsaber back on and slung her pack across her chest. The determined look he'd come to realize was her standard expression was back in place.

Their pilot walked back from the bridge. He raked Case up and down with his eyes, lingering on the divide where her pack strap crossed her chest.

"Hey!" Dustil said sharply. The pilot disengaged his gaze and slid it over to Dustil.

"Yeah?" he challenged lazily. "Don't like me lookin' at your Master, Padawan?"

Case didn't show any overt emotion, but her hand dropped to her saber. Dustil mimicked the man's humorless grin. "I don't like you, period. You're supposed to be landing the ship—stare at the ladies on your own time."

The pilot shrugged. "Fair enough. The Fleet's not letting anyone down to the planet. Says it's under quarantine and all ships have to dock at the Citadel Station."

Case looked at Dustil. "Where is he?" she asked.

With a wary glance at the pilot, Dustil closed his eyes and tried to reach out his Force senses for the "feel" of his father. He was glad now that the pool had forced him inside his father's head, because he knew what to look for. He swept the Citadel Station and the docked ships without feeling him, then turned his attention to the planet. He thought it would be too large for him to find anyone, but he was shocked to find that there were very few living creatures at all on the planet. Not even the tiny blips of animals. There was an odd collection of life at the north pole, but it wasn't his father. He blew over the planet once without finding anyone else and was about to give up when he felt the faint pull of his father's life. It was dim, but it was there.

Dustil opened his eyes again and was surprised to realize that he was drenched in sweat and leaning against the wall of the narrow hallway. His vision swam alarmingly before him. Case reached out a hand to steady him but he shook his head and tried to pull himself together. That had been harder than he'd expected. "He's on the planet. I think there's a base down there."

The pilot shook his head. "No way. You're not paying me enough to run a Fleet blockade. I still like living, you know."

Case rolled her eyes and reached into her pack for a datapad. She stabbed some figures into it and tossed it to the pilot. "That should change your mind. You'll get an equal amount when we get off the planet."

The pilot looked at the number, eyes widening slightly. He tucked the datapad into his belt. "Strap in. It's about to get bumpy."


	13. Chapter 12

**TWELVE**

As promised, it was a bumpy ride to the surface of Telos. Case sat on her bunk and let Dustil use the jump seat in the cabin. They jolted left and right in a way that made Case sure that their pilot was dodging blaster fire. He issued a quick warning over the ship's comm that gave Case just enough time to grip the sides of the mattress as they tipped into an impossibly sharp dive. She clenched her eyes shut and tried not to think about the bile rising in her throat. They eased level again and she could hear the ground scraping against the ship's belly before they rocked to a surprisingly gentle stop.

She heard something suspiciously like laughter from the jump seat and cracked an eye open to see Dustil grinning and hanging onto the seat straps. "Hell of a trip, eh, Case?"

She muttered something nonresponsive under her breath. Dustil had been different since their fight at the cave pool—or was it she who was different? It was hard to tell without the Force. It was like being half asleep, not having the Force near her, and Case wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to stand it if she didn't find a way to reach it soon. _You'd better figure it out, or else Carth—_she cut off her thoughts, which would only serve to reignite the terror that bubbled up in her stomach whenever she thought of the task in front of her.

The pilot came back wearing much the same exhilarated expression as Dustil. "We're here, Master Jedi." The way he said those words made it the sarcasm apparent. He looked at his chrono. "I'm waiting for one hour, and then to hell with the rest of your credits. It's almost as bad as Malachor V down here." He stomped back to the cockpit before Case could even thank him for getting them to the surface safely.

Dustil bounced to his feet. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."

What _was_ she waiting for? She had agreed to do a job, and now she had to gird up and do it. She swung off the bunk and swept past Dustil toward the exit ramp. The pilot had left it on manual control, so she hit the keypad for it to drop down. She tried to exude confidence as she strode down the ramp and out into—

She could only describe it as Hell. She had seen the vids of Telos after the attack, the long gouges of shipfire across the fields, the piles of rubble where towns used to be. But even amidst the ruin, there had been a blade of grass or two determinedly fighting back. Now, there were just empty stretches of dead fields to the horizon. The air itself seemed thin, without life. She heard Dustil's gasp behind her. She turned to see him frozen in place, a stricken expression on his face.

He said slowly, still staring at the horizon, "I—I didn't think it would be like this." He shook his head roughly. "Come on, let's get inside the base."

They went inside the unlocked doors and Case followed Dustil through seemingly endless identical hallways. He seemed to be following a scent, and she trusted that he knew where he was going. She fingered the hilt of her lightsaber but they passed no one. A few open rooms showed datapads scattered on desks and half-eaten meals on tables. The base had obviously been evacuated in a hurry. What kind of a virus was loose here?

They came, finally, to a softly lit reception area with no one at the desk. They had a bad moment when they reached a set of strongly-secured doors, but Case hunted around on the desk and found the door release. They went inside an area with a whoosh of air. Quarantine control, Case realized. As they approached another locked door, Case saw a man standing outside at a monitoring console. He was so still that she thought for a moment he was dead on his feet. He finally looked up, and she was taken aback by the terribly sad expression on his face. He was wearing medical garb.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Everyone's been evacuated."

"We're here for Carth Onasi. We were told he was here."

The man shook his head. "I can't let you in there. You're not protected from the virus."

Case asked, "Why are you still here? Are you sick?"

The man looked back at the monitor. "I'm a medic. Garon Pel. Two hundred got the virus here and at Marne. My—my friend, Payna Kartor, she was the receptionist here, she got it and—I lost her two days ago. I can't do anything else for the rest, there's only three left now—but I can't leave. It's my duty to stay here until—until it's done." His voice broke and he turned quickly away.

Case reached out a hand and tentatively touched his shoulder. He turned back to her, eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. "Let me try to help. Will you let me in?"

Garon looked at her for a long moment before finally nodding. He hit a button on the monitor and the lock light turned green.

Case and Dustil entered the doorway. "How do you do that?" he whispered.

"What?" she asked, scanning the blue-lit cells ahead of her.

"Get people to do what you want. You didn't even use Persuade on him!"

She smiled sadly, still seeing the medic devastated face. Payna must have been more than just a friend to him. "I guess I'm still enough Jedi to believe that most people want to help their fellow sentients." She saw that the quarantine field was off in the last cell. "There," she said.

She ran forward and saw him. Carth was propped up against the wall on the bunk in the back of the cell, his legs stretched out in front of him and right arm hanging off nearly to the floor. His fist was clenched as he struggled for breath. Case ran up to him while Dustil hung back at the front of the cell. Carth's closed eyes were smudged dark and his lips had a blue tinge that sent fear shooting through her limbs. "Carth?" she called, placing one hand lightly on his heaving chest. "Carth, can you hear me?"

He moved his head a little at the sound of her voice but his eyes remained closed. He was nearly gone. Case gripped his hand in hers and reached out for the Force. She strained and strained toward it, could almost see it in front of her, but she couldn't reach it. She sat back on her heels, out of breath and sweating. It had been like this every time she had reached for the Force on the ship. She had hoped that the need being so close would help, but she was wrong. _You couldn't use it to save Iman_, she thought cruelly to herself. _Why would it help you now?_

"Case?" Dustil asked. He was still at the doorway, as though afraid to come closer.

She shook her head, eyes too dry to tear up. "I can't reach it."

"No! You have to try again!" he said sharply. He came toward her and grabbed her roughly by the shoulder. "He didn't give up on me—we can't give up on him!" He held out his hand. "Take it."

She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Take my hand and concentrate, woman!" he growled.

She tentatively took Dustil's hand. She reached for the Force again and could suddenly, faintly, feel Dustil's presence. He was pulling a thread of something out of her, taking her Life Force out and putting it into himself. She gasped and tried to pull her hand away but he held it with a grip that her rapidly failing strength couldn't break. "What are you—"

Abruptly, Dustil reversed the flow and threw her own Life Force back to her, pushing it back into her by sheer strength alone. She reached out for the thread and suddenly the Force sprang back to life around her. She gasped again, this time for the wonder of it. It was like she had been color blind and now could see rainbows around her. Slowly, for fear that she would lose it again, she let go of Dustil's hand. He fell back on his rear, pale and exhausted, but smiling. "Go on!"

She turned back to Carth—had his chest stopped rising with breath?—and reached for him again with the Force. This time, she found herself in the middle of a dim room full of gray smoke.

She had been here before. This was the Leviathan from Carth's nightmare. She ignited her saber and cleared a little space for her to breathe, but she knew, as before, that it wouldn't last long. She had to get out of this room and find Carth. She knew that he was trapped here somewhere, too.

"Carth!" she shouted. "Carth, where are you? It's Case!"

She chose a direction and walked blindly in the hopes of reaching a door, but several long minutes went by without her finding anything but more smoke. She could be walking in circles, for all she knew. Panic welled up inside of her. How much time did Carth have left? She had to find him! "Carth? Carth!"

Only silence met her calls.

* * *

Carth didn't remember it being so cold on Telos. It must have something to do with the Sith attack. Or maybe it was the stims he'd been on for so many hours that he couldn't keep his hands steady anymore. The town was a graveyard, dust hanging low in the air, buildings collapsed and unrecognizable. He'd found so many people, some alive and some not, but he hadn't found his wife or son. He was getting desperate. Too late he'd remembered that Ana had been assigned to guard the armory. By the time he dragged the metal beams and collapsed roof away from the square, she'd been underneath too long. Her curly dark hair was stiff with blood, her tunic torn. Ana glared at him through dim eyes. "You gave up on me," she whispered harshly.

Wait, this wasn't right.

He was standing in the cave on Korriban. But he was alone. Case and Canderous had been with him then, hadn't they? Dustil appeared, hair too long and in need of a shave. He was pale against his dark uniform.

"The Sith are my family now, Father," he sneered. "Do you know what happened to me when the Sith came? You attacked the ship I was on less than a week after the attack. You'd already given up on me. That's when I gave up on you. I knew you'd never come for me." Dustil ignited a red lightsaber. He smiled. "I'd like to see you try now, old man."

Carth shook his head, tried to think around the nagging pain in his chest. This wasn't right. This wasn't what happened.

He was on the Leviathan, standing outside of his quarters. He could see his breath fog in front of his face. Ships were always cold, but not like this. His breath echoed loudly in the hallway. He opened the door, saw the same gray smoke as always. He held his breath and went inside, or was it that he no longer needed to breathe? He waded through the gray smoke until he saw a pale haze of yellow light surrounding a lone figure. It was Case. She was alone. She seemed surprised to see him. "You found me," she said. "I couldn't find you."

"Come out with me, Case," he said, voice oddly hoarse. "I promised you I'd save you."

She smiled. "We saved each other, love. But I need you to wait for me outside of here. Help me find my way out."

He was standing outside the locked door. He pounded on it to no avail. "Case!" he shouted.

He felt a hand on his arm, turned—

—and opened his eyes to see Case leaning over him.

"Hey, beautiful," he tried to say, but it came out as a bare whisper.

Case burst into tears and slung her arms around his neck. Over her head, he could see Dustil sitting on the floor of the quarantine cell with a huge grin on his face. Carth tried to make sense of what was going on. The last thing he remembered clearly was Mission and Jan leaving. Everything after that was hazy. It seemed like there was a medic, and maybe some Diplomatic officials, but he didn't really remember.

He gently dislodged Case's arm from his neck and pushed himself upright. The effort made him pant, but at least he could take a full breath. His brain didn't feel like it was swimming in gel, either. "Did they get everyone off planet?" he asked.

Case sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Who?" she asked.

"Mission and Jan," he said, more urgently now. "They left to warn Marne to evacuate. Are they all right?" He'd never forgive himself if they'd gotten hurt or worse because he'd been too weak to do his own work.

Dustil and Case exchanged glances and he could tell they were trying to decide how much to tell him. "Tell me, dammit!" he growled, which made him cough. "Are they all right or aren't they?"

Dustil shook his head. "We don't know. We came here directly from Korriban. I saw you in a kind of, well, vision and I knew you were ill. They were there, but that was several days ago. I don't know where they are now."

"Are you talking about the missing Twi'lek and the boy who was here before?" asked a new voice. A man in medical garb walked into the cell. He looked as exhausted as Carth felt. "They were evacuated with the others. Everyone had to be scanned for the virus before they were taken to Citadel Station, and they're both on the clear list." The man looked desperately at Case. "Master Jedi, I don't have any right to ask, but could you—would you please—look at the other two patients? If you can do anything for them—" he trailed off, looking desperately hopeful.

"Of course," Case agreed without hesitation. Carth was reminded of all the times she had said exactly that before helping someone while they were looking for the Star Maps. Even when he thought they didn't have time, he was always proud of her for helping. She put a hand on his arm. "Are you okay for a few minutes?"

He waved her out. "Fine, I'm fine." He didn't like being fussed over. Carth was suddenly alone in the cell with Dustil, who was still sprawled on the floor. For the first time, Carth noticed that he was wearing a Sith Academy uniform. "Are you—did you, I mean—your uniform—" he didn't know how to ask. He was afraid of the answer. He didn't really know his son that well, and if he had gone back to the Sith—

Dustil's hand went briefly to his pocket. He smiled a little, looking far older than Carth remembered. "I won't be going back to the Academy." Dustil abruptly pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to Carth. "Come on, Father, let's get you back to the ship. Our pilot isn't exactly reliable."

Carth had commanded enough junior officers to know when his question had been dodged, but he didn't have the spare breath to follow up. By the time they got back to their ship, a sharp little smuggler, he was leaning heavily on Dustil and panting. Case and the medic followed them more quickly, each carrying a patient. Case handed off her burden, a young boy, to Dustil and went to negotiate with the pilot watching them suspiciously from the nose of the bird. Normally, Carth would have gone over with her. For all that Case was good at talking people into what she wanted, she didn't know the first thing about ships and made terrible bargains for supplies and transport fees. But he wasn't sure he had the energy to walk all the way over there and back.

Instead, he looked out past the ship to the ruined landscape before him. He had thought that he would be angry again—angry at Wann, at the Ithorians, at himself for failing Telos again. But he realized, looking at what used to be rolling plains of grass, that these nearly five years had just delayed the inevitable. He had thought the people of Telos could bring the planet back on their own, but all they could do was watch the fields of hifa get smaller and the seas give them less fish every year. Wann deserved a blaster bolt for unleashing a virus on sentients he was supposed to be protecting, but he hadn't killed Telos—he'd only finished the job that the Sith had started. Carth had expected to be angry, but he felt only a deep regret for things lost. Telos was gone, and it was time to move on.

He turned away from the planet and started up the boarding ramp. Case was waiting for him, arms crossed over her chest. Her lightsaber hung from her belt. She was watching him closely. "Are you ready?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

Mission slid onto a bench at a large communal table in the Ithorian compound and started to methodically eat a bowl of something mushy that tasted like the hifa mash she'd eaten on Telos. She stared fixedly at the pinkish goo and determinedly thought of nothing.

"It is customary, herdling," said a warbly voice beside her, "to greet your neighbors when you break your evening fast."

Mission looked down the table to a smallish Ithorian watching her reproachfully. "Yeah? Well, consider yourself greeted. And knock it off with the 'herdling' stuff, anyway. I ain't no kid, and you can't all be two hundred years old."

The Ithorian laughed and slid itself, its tray, and its stack of datapads down to her. "Indeed, I am only seventy-eight of your standard years, and just out of the Learning Herd, myself. I do not think our relative ages are so different. You are just. . .small. And blue."

Mission laughed out loud before she could stop herself. "Just call me Mission," she said.

The Ithorian sobered. "Her—Mission, I am sorry for the loss of your Herd Leader." The creature looked unbearably kind.

Her nose started to get stuffed up again at that thought, and her eyes pricked with tears. She ground her knuckle into them ruthlessly. She was so tired of crying. She didn't want to do it anymore. "Yeah," she said finally, "me too."

The Ithorian stood and picked up its tray. "I am Kaxtrax," it said. "I hope we may speak together again." The creature left Mission alone with her thoughts.

The Ithorian had forgotten one of its datapads. Mission scanned the room for the alien, but it had already left the common area. She scrolled idly through it, head propped on one hand and elbow. It turned out to be a kind of layman's description of what the Ithorians were planning to do to repair Telos, but it was full of acronyms and chemical structures and it was hard for her to decipher. She was glad for the difficulty, though, because it kept her mind off everything else.

She didn't really remember the rest of the night Chodo Habat told her about Carth, but she woke up alone in a room in the Ithorian consulate. It took her half the day just to get herself out of bed, and then all she did was use the fresher and get back in. She cried until she was sick to her stomach, and then cried until she was dry heaving over the side of the mattress. She cried until she was so dehydrated that there was nothing else to cry. It hadn't been like this with Griff, or when Zalbaar left for Kashyyyk. She knew they were out there in the Universe somewhere, but Carth was gone. It was like losing a part of herself.

Today was the third day, and her stomach had finally forced her out to the common area. She was already regretting coming out. The article on the reconstruction project ended with a plea for skilled and unskilled workers of all kinds. The restoration would be the largest civil engineering project the Republic had ever undertaken.

"There you are," a soft voice said.

Mission looked up to see Jan slide onto the bench across from her. His eyes were red-rimmed, too, like he'd also spent at least some of the last two days crying. "Hey," she responded, trying and failing at nonchalance, "What's goin' on?"

He reached for the pitcher of caffa in the center of the table. "I tried your room a few times yesterday, but you didn't answer. I thought you might have taken off already." He kept his eyes on his cup.

Mission reached across the table and caught his wrist. "Hey. Do you think I would just leave without telling you?"

Jan twisted his hand around and caught hers in his. He finally looked up at her. "I'd hoped not." He paused again, then blurted out, "I'm sorry about Captain Onasi. I remember what it was like after he told us about my Dad. Everyone kept trying to tell me it was going to be okay, but it just made things worse. So I won't say that. I don't know what to say."

Mission nodded, glad that someone understood. She just couldn't talk about it right now. "I know. Thanks." She took a deep breath and couldn't take her eyes off the hand around hers. "So, um," she fumbled, "what are you going to do now?"

Jan looked back at the table. "I enlisted yesterday."

She jerked her head up. "Enlisted? In what?"

"The Fleet."

"But you're not old enough to enlist!" she cried. "You're not eighteen yet!"

Jan shrugged, a smile catching the corner of his mouth. "I lied."

Mission yanked her hand back and used it to go back to eating breakfast. "I don't know why you'd want to join the stupid Fleet, anyway," she mumbled through a mouthful of mash.

"Oh, what, you have a better idea? Go be a farmer on the colony of the week? Join the Exchange? Or maybe I could be a Jedi. I don't have the Force, but, hey, you have connections, right?" Jan threw back a swig of caffa and glared at her.

Mission kept eating her cereal.

"Well, what are you going to do, Mission?"

Mission's spoon paused for just a second on the way to her mouth. What _was_ she going to do? She hadn't really thought much further than getting through the rest of the morning without turning into a blue ball of tears again. Here she was on a space station, and she could go anywhere she wanted.

Mission cast around desperately for an idea. Her eyes caught the datapad. "I'm joining the Telos Reconstruction Project," she blurted out.

Jan stared at her, mouth open. "Really? You're staying here?"

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully. The idea felt good to her, felt _right_. She didn't have a home now, but maybe she could build herself one. "I think I am."

The way Jan was continuing to look at her made her acutely uncomfortable. She wanted him to slug her in the arm and call her kid. Or take her hand in his again. Or something. The silence between them got awkward. Mission finally couldn't take it any longer.

She stood, scraping the bench behind her loudly. "Okay, I guess, I'll, um—" she trailed off. She just didn't know what to say. "When do you leave?" Jan didn't say anything. "What?" She looked at him. He was staring past her to the doorway. She looked over her shoulder. "Oh, you have to be kidding me—"

She started running toward the door. "Carth!"


	14. Chapter 13

**THIRTEEN**

Case just smiled as Mission came tearing toward them, lekku trailing out behind her. She leapt at them headlong from a meter out. Case surreptitiously caught the girl with the Force and eased her weight as she crashed into Carth. They laughed and hugged, Mission's tears on them both. Case glanced at Dustil beside her. He had a curious mix of amusement and envy on his face that he quickly smoothed away when he noticed her attention. "It's always like this, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

Case watched Carth warmly shaking Jan's hand, saw the forced casualness with which Jan put his arm around Mission's shoulder, the embarrassed smile on Mission's face as she leaned into him. She looked at her own hands, primly clasped in front of her. She sighed. "If you let it."

She knew she had to leave soon. The visions that the pool on Korriban had given her were still strong in her mind. In one vision, she was on a gray planet somewhere, standing back-to-back with someone holding a green blade. They were surrounded by something she couldn't see, but she knew them from their hisses. They were the True Sith.

Dustil leaned over and Case jerked her mind away from the vision. She was reminded of how tall he was. He was head and shoulders above her, and she wasn't exactly short. "I'm coming with you," he said.

She looked at him sharply. There was no humor in his dark eyes. "What are you talking about? Of course you're not," she retorted. "You're going to the Jedi Council just as soon as we get off this station. Besides, you don't have any idea where I'm going." Was this really the same angry boy with whom she had left Coruscant?

Dustil pushed back his hair, suddenly awkward. "Um, actually, I do. At least, I have an idea."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You know when I gave you back the Force on Telos yesterday? Well, I, um, I think I—" he hesitated.

"Spit it out, boy!"

"I accidently created a Force Bond between us."

She gasped, loud enough that Carth looked up from the datapad Mission was eagerly showing him. She forced a smile and waved him back to what he was doing. Was it possible? How could she not have realized? Case closed her eyes briefly and centered herself in the Force. She reached out around her and suddenly, there it was. Shining faintly between she and Dustil, an impossibly thin filament of the Force. She reached toward it and could feel the outlines of his mind, his emotions, as if they were her own. His aura was slate gray, the same color, she realized with a start, as her own.

She opened her eyes, gaping at him. "How did you do this?" she whispered. Force Bonds were a rare thing, usually formed only at times of great peril, as with Bastila, or very rarely, between Master and Padawan after many years. To be able to create one—that was a great power.

Dustil shrugged again, but this time, he had a ghost of a smile on his face. "The Force works in mysterious ways, _Master_." The ghost-smile turned into a full-fledged grin.

Case shook her head. This was not part of her plans. She couldn't exactly sneak out in the middle of the night now, could she? Not with her lover's son in tow. "Where I'm going, Dustil, it's—it's not going to be safe. What happened to Melan is just a taste of the power that they have. I think—" she hesitated. "I think I fell because of something I found while looking for the True Sith."

"The Star Forge?"

She shook her head. "Something else. I've been remembering more and more of what I was before, when I was Revan, but I don't know." She looked up at him fiercely. "You felt the Darkness on Korriban, how easy it is to fall there. That is nothing compared to what it will be out there. If you come with me, Dustil, you have to be prepared to kill me. If I fall again."

She thought he would be shocked, maybe decide not to come. But he simply nodded. "I know. We'll watch each other." He looked wistfully at his father. "Father used to tell me when I was little that I couldn't just float along, but I had to create my own destiny. I think I'm doing that now." He stopped, then blurted out, "I've killed people, you know. When I was at the Academy."

Case felt the anguish inside of him, and the tiny spark of pride that he had done a good job, and the shame at the pride. She realized then that he understood. "You have to tell him yourself, Dustil. No way am I doing that for you."

Dustil got his emotions under control and nodded. "I think I'll leave out the part about us being Force Bonded for now. That might be more than he can take in."

Case grinned at that. "For a man who doesn't trust Jedi, he's certainly knee deep in them. But don't underestimate him, Dustil. He's not Jedi, but he's a better man than any I've ever known."

"Yeah. He is."

Carth turned back to them and gestured them forward. "Come on up here, you two! You're missing the celebration!" Case and Dustil started toward the happy group.

Case remembered something and held Dustil's arm for just a moment. "Er, Dustil," she said, "I'd wait until tomorrow morning to tell your father about things. We'll, er, be in our apartment for a while."

Dustil almost kept the look of disgust off his face. "I didn't need to know that," he said. His eyes widened in sudden horror. "I'm not—I mean, you and Father tonight, with our Bond, I'm not going to, you know—"

"Oh, no. Your Master used to be Force Bonded to the stuffiest, most uptight, hair-in-bun Jedi you've ever met. I know a thing or two about shielding myself from a Bond."

The look of relief on Dustil's face made her laugh aloud.

* * *

Hours later, Case stood at the window of their temporary quarters and watched the planet beneath the station. She saw the ghosts of fighters fly past, shooting at each other above the planet. She knew if she turned, she would see the faint outline of Malak next to her, observing the battle below. If she looked at her hands, she would see the dark gloves she had worn as Revan. Case pressed her fingers into her eyes, banishing the visions. Her past and future had both been haunting her since Dustil gave her back the Force.

She heard the door slide open behind her. She turned to see Carth walk into the room in full uniform. She couldn't help but smile in admiration. She'd only seen him in uniform on a few occasions the entire time that she'd known him. In a flash, Case saw a tall man in uniform reaching down to her, swinging her around in the air. "There's my boy!" she heard. Case realized that she was seeing Dustil's memory of his father. Carth looked impossibly heroic in the memory. She swallowed hard.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" Carth's concerned voice brought her back to the present.

She shook her head. She'd have to get used to a Bond again. "How was your meeting with the Admiralty?" she asked. As soon as Carth extricated himself from Mission and her friend, he'd checked in with the station's captain, who handed him a datapad full of hundreds of unread messages. He'd been in meetings for hours.

"Coran hanged herself before the TSF came for her. She was a good doctor, but what she did—" he shook his head. "It's unforgiveable. Wann will probably be tried for treason, though I heard the Diplomatic Corps was trying to just reassign him to Tatooine." Carth's expression was dark. "He should be right next to Coran in hell. He deserves no mercy!"

Case was constantly surprised at how Carth expected the Universe to be just. If that were true, someone would have done her in long ago. "In real life, sometimes the bad guys are never punished," she said with a shrug.

He smiled a little, and the anger drained away from his eyes. "And the good guys just go back to work, right?"

She should tell him now that she was leaving, but her courage failed again and she simply asked. "Well, what else happened? You didn't spend six hours in meetings just for that, did you?"

He shrugged, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "They made me an Admiral," he said sheepishly.

"Carth!" she grinned and hugged him. "That's great news!" He didn't say anything, and she pushed herself away to look him in the eye. "Aren't you happy?" she asked.

He frowned. "They have a three-ship fleet ready to leave for a hotspot on the Outer Rim. My transport arrives in two days. Mission's fine here—she's excited about starting with the Reconstruction Project next week. And I suppose Dustil will go back to Coruscant. What are your plans, Case?" She didn't say anything, and his hands tensed on her back. "My offer still stands, you know. They tell me Admirals' quarters are plenty big for two."

She paced away from him. "Even after what I did?" she asked in disbelief. She couldn't get the look of fear and disgust he had on his face at Coruscant out of her mind.

He pushed his hair off his forehead and sighed. "I know what you did, Case, and I know why you did it. Did you really think that you needed to drive me away forever?"

Case stared at the floor. She decided in that moment not to lie to him again. He deserved her truth, at least. She fumbled, "Carth, I have to go. There. . .something. . .out there, in the Unknown Regions. You know I've been dreaming—remembering, really, just scraps from when I was Revan. When I was on Korriban, I found something that gave me back a lot of my memories."

Carth stared at her. "How much?" he asked. She thought she felt a flicker of fear go through him.

She reached for his hand and was relieved when he didn't pull immediately away. "I'm still not her, Carth. But I remember a lot of what she did, and what she found." Case shivered. She seemed to hear the hissing of the True Sith everywhere. She laughed a little, eyes brimming with tears. "I didn't order the destruction of Telos. I'd been so worried that I had." The tears spilled over and she found she couldn't stop crying.

Carth wrapped his arms around her and made shushing noises against her hair. "I love you, Case," he said quietly. "And everything that comes with you. I thought we settled that on Rakata."

Case wanted to stay in his arms forever, but she pushed back and wiped her face with her hands. "I think I found the Sith, the True Sith, when I was still Revan. And somehow I became Darth Revan before I found out where they were. I'm still not sure how, yet. But I can feel them out there, and they're dangerous. I have to—I have to find them. And stop the threat." She stared fiercely at him. "I asked to see my destiny in the pool on Korriban, and that's what it showed me. When I was done, I had more of my memories back. I saw where Revan started to go, and that's what I have to do now."

"Why didn't you tell me this before? You know I'll come with you. Anywhere in the Universe."

She whispered, "I can't take you with me. I can't take anyone I love with me. I knew that much while we were still on Coruscant. I had to make sure you didn't follow me, so I—I did the one thing I knew you couldn't forgive. I just didn't think I could make you understand."

His crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "Did you think I wouldn't understand if you told me the truth?" His voice was low and angry. "That I wouldn't understand _duty_? I'm no Jedi, Case, but I know very well what it means to choose duty over the ones you love."

She didn't know what to say. Of course he understood. She was doing what she hated most in the Jedi—substituting her judgment for his own. "I—I don't—" she trailed off.

Suddenly his arms were around her again. "Let's just trust each other, Case. Let's just start with that."

She smiled, the weight she'd carried on her heart since leaving Coruscant lifting just a bit. "I know I've hit bottom now. Captain Paranoid telling me to trust him."

"That's Admiral Paranoid to you, missy."

She kissed him then, and put up her mental shields.

* * *

A day later, Carth made his way slowly to the hangar bay, hands stuffed in his pockets. It was three hours before sunrise, station time, and only the barest skeleton crew was still awake. The new crop of Fleet recruits were gathering at the hangar to board the transport to boot camp. It was the perfect time for a small ship to leave the base without a lot of attention. Case had used a good portion of the vast amount of credits they'd amassed while searching for the Star Forge to buy a ship. Or, more accurately, Carth had used Case's credits to buy her the fastest, most reliable ship he could in the few hours available. Something even someone with her minimal piloting skills could maneuver with the help of the in-ship piloting droid. Something that wouldn't break down when she was alone on the frontier of the Unknown Regions without him.

Something to keep her safe. Because she was leaving. Again.

The hollow feeling in his gut hadn't dissipated in the hours since she had told him what she was planning to do. He wanted more than anything to beg her to stay, to put a tracker on her new ship and follow her to the end of the Universe. He would resign his commission in a nanosecond if he thought it would do any good. But he knew in his heart that she had to go, that she couldn't stay for him even if she tried. She wasn't like the other Jedi he'd met—she didn't follow their rules and didn't seem to care, but he knew that she could no sooner turn away from her duty to protect the Universe than he could turn away from his. He'd lost his wife, his son, to his duty, and now he would lose Case to hers.

He reached the door to the hangar and hesitated only a moment or two before palming it open. The crowd near the Fleet transport was boisterous. To the far end was the newly-outfitted _Outlander_, fully fueled and ready to go. Dustil was nearby, bent over a workbench.

"Hey, Dustil," he greeted, only a little awkwardly. He had realized that he might never really know his son.

Dustil looked up from the bench. "Hey, Father." He held up what he was working on, a lightsaber, and squinted at it appraisingly. He faced it away from them and switched it on. A bright green blade extended from the handle. "What do you think?"

"I can't say I've ever seen one that color before. I like it a lot more than the red one you had on Korriban." The one that had been pointed at his throat. "Where did you get the crystal to make it green?"

Dustil looked haunted for just a moment. "In a cave I was in a while ago," he said finally. "I learned a lot about myself there. And someone told me the future is changeable, like a blade crystal, so I'm changing it." He paced away from Carth suddenly and tossed a holodisc in the air. In one smooth stroke, he ran it through with the green blade, disintigrating the disc. Before Carth could ask what he had done, he turned and blurted out, "Father, I'm not going back to Coruscant. I'm going with Case."

"What?" The hollow place in Carth's gut froze.

"Case wanted me to tell you yesterday, and I meant to tell you before now, but you and Case were busy, and well, I just—didn't." He looked like he was bracing for anger.

"What about the Academy, Dustil? The Jedi Council was very insistent that you receive training as soon as possible." What was it the small Master had said? Strong in the Force?

"I can't go back there." Dustil jerked his hand negatively. "I don't know why I know that, but I do. I turned away from the Sith because of you and Case, but I can't join the Jedi. All those blue auras—I just wouldn't fit in."

"But what about your training in the Force? They said you can't continue untrained." In his mind's eye, Carth saw his son in a Sith Academy uniform, holding a red saber toward him. Would he fall without training?

"Case said she would train me. She knows what it's like to come back. And the Jedi don't really understand her, either. They're afraid of her, you can see it in the way they talk about her. And I know what's that's like—they talked about me that way, too. Father, this will sound strange, but I think—I think we can help each other."

Carth opened his mouth to protest again, to do something, anything, to stop his only child from storming into oblivion with the woman he loved. But then he saw the look on Dustil's face, the set determination, the utter lack of fear in his eyes. He looked exactly like Ana had when she'd set her mind on something.

Carth closed his eyes for just a moment, then held out his hand. "Good luck, son. I'm proud of you." Dustil grinned, relief plain on his face. He shook Carth's hand.

Dustil reached suddenly into his pocket and thrust something at Carth. "Here, take this," he said.

Carth took the small item and looked at it closely. It was a smooth stone flecked green with minerals. He raised his eyebrows at Dustil.

Dustil smiled. "It's from Telos. I've had it a long time, but I think you should have it now." He nodded, as if confirming something to himself.

The door behind them swished open again and Case entered. Carth suspected she had been waiting outside the door for some time. She was dressed in the light armor she'd picked up somewhere on their search for the Star Forge. Her scruffy blond hair was held back by a targeting visor. Carth had never understood why a blade fighter would wear a visor meant for blasters, but she'd claimed it helped her concentrate on her targets. Her pack was slung over her shoulder. Seeing her dressed for battle brought back a year's worth of memories. He couldn't believe it had been such a short time.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said.

She smiled. "Hey yourself, flyboy."

Dustil cleared his throat. "I'm, uh, going to say goodbye to Mission." He practically ran over to the group sending off the recruits.

Carth laughed. "Apparently, seeing his old man with a pretty girl like you is too much for him."

"Ha. I'll take the pretty, but girl? I'm afraid I haven't been a girl in a long time." She sobered. "He told you?"

Carth nodded. "He said you would train him to use the Force."

She smiled a little. "Imagine that. Me, with a Padawan. Master Vrook will have a stroke."

Carth touched her hair with one hand. "Case—"

She grabbed his hand and held it against her cheek like she would never let go. "Don't, please. Don't ask me to stay."

If he did, would she? He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. So instead he kissed her forehead. "Go. But come back to me."

She smiled up at him, tears making her dark eyes bright. "I will. Keep the Republic safe for me to come back to, okay?"

He didn't bother to hide his own tears as he hugged her. They walked hand-in-hand to stand next to Dustil with the group boarding the transport. Mission was standing next to Sulan, who was tearfully saying goodbye to Jan. The boy was in the dull black and gold of a Fleet recruit. He smiled when he saw Carth approaching.

Carth squeezed Case's hand once, then held it out to Jan. "Good luck, Jan. I look forward to serving together some day."

Jan shook his hand warmly. "Thank you, sir. It would be an honor." The klaxon warning all the recruits to board the ship sounded. Jan looked over his shoulder at the transport. "That's my cue," he said. Suddenly, he darted forward and kissed Mission hard on the mouth. "I'll see ya when I come back for leave, okay?"

Mission grinned, face flushed purple. "Okay."

They waved at Jan as he slung his pack over his shoulder and trotted onto the ship. Carth remembered the day he left for the Fleet Academy and the tears on his mother's face. She'd been proud to see him go. Sulan smiled briefly at him, then walked away with a boy who must have been Jan's lost brother.

Mission nudged him with her elbow. "Well, it's you and me, again, geezer, at least til you leave on your big Admiral trip tomorrow. Wanna have lunch later?"

"Sure, kid. See you then." She looked for a second like she would protest the nickname, then grinned and dashed away.

Carth looked back to where Case and Dustil had been and was unsurprised to see that they were gone. He walked to the edge of the hanger, rolling the small stone around in his hand, and looked through the force-fielded door at the bright dot of the _Outlander _moving away from the station. He watched until it stretched into the long streak of hyperdrive and blinked out of sight.

**END**


End file.
